Breaking Point
by courtneylove15
Summary: Caroline, a girl from the United States, flees from her home in an effort to start over. However, once she meets Scabior and his men in the woods, she quickly realizes that her new beginning isn't exactly what she had in mind. ScabiorOC
1. Night Drive

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter One: Night Drive**

She stared ahead of her, her face blank.

Contrary to what was showing on the outside, anger surged through her veins, very nearly consuming her. Her fingernails bit into her palms as her fists clenched and air squeezed through her teeth in a low hiss, her face twisting into a sneer. Her eyes barely took in the storm approaching visible through the window as she sat on her bed, feet touching the ground, legs tensed as if ready to leap into action at any moment. A flash of lightening, an oddity seeing as how it was the middle of November, lit up her room and the tension in her body snapped.

That was it. She was done.

Springing into action, she ran to her closet and pulled out her school backpack and promptly emptied out all of her books, paper, and pens. Hurriedly, she stuffed random articles of clothing into it, as well as a few pairs of socks and underwear and one extra bra. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her wallet, passport, iPod, cell phone and charger, and flashlight off of her dresser, and then hastily put on her old, worn tennis shoes. She strode into her bathroom, freezing for a second to listen for any type of noise, and then placed her toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as her hairbrush, into her bag before kneeling down to the cabinets beneath the sink. She searched for the box of tampons in the way back that hid her money and stuffed all of her savings into the back pocket of her jeans. She paused for a minute, scanning her brain for any other necessities she may need. After deciding that she grabbed everything she would require for a few days, she rushed out of the bathroom.

The girl slowed when she passed her parents' bedroom, careful not to wake them. She quietly put one foot in front of the other, as if giving herself a few seconds to reconsider her decision to leave. But she pushed that thought out of her head and instead focused on successfully sneaking past her parents' bedroom.

After all, it was only one o'clock in the morning and she did not want to alert them to her activities. _Though,_ she thought bitterly, _they wouldn't be able to stop from leaving me if they tried. _She paused for a second, however, muttered a quiet "fuck you," before continuing on her way downstairs. She walked into the kitchen, and making sure that no one was around to notice her actions, yanked her father's car keys off of the counter. Without looking back, she raced out of the front door, forgetting to shut the door quietly.

Once outside, she ran.

With a small feeling of satisfaction and spite, her feet sunk deeply into the lawn that, while currently dead because it was winter, her father always took such pride in, and had always forbidden her to walk across. To her, the lawn was a symbol of everything else her father had always put before her.

Unlocking her father's blue 1997 Toyota Camry, she shoved her backpack into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. She put the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. For a quick second, she panicked. She had momentarily had forgotten how loud the old beast's engine was, and if her slamming the front door shut hadn't woken her parents up, then the starting of the car certainly had.

Sure enough, as she raced out of the driveway, the image of her father's face, initially surprised but then red in anger, appeared in the window of her parent's bedroom. But it was too late. She was gone. They couldn't stop her now.

She, Caroline Adams, was finally free.

Thirty minutes later, she was speeding down the highway to the Denver International Airport, the anger still pulsing through her body, but accompanied with a sharp feeling of relief. This was it. She had finally left, finally gathered up the courage to do what she had been wanting to do for years. But most of all, she had finally taken her life into her own hands, and she was determined to see her decision through.

After all, she was certainly old enough to take care of herself. And all the reasons that had kept her with her parents for so long seemed to make little sense and quickly evaporated as she allowed herself a few minutes to bask in the glow of her new found independence.

Veering left, Caroline slowed down and took the road that led to parking for those who were dropping off departing passengers. The parking lot was an hourly parking lot that allowed a person to pay once they were leaving, depending on how long they had been there. However, she knew that once someone noticed the car had been there for too long, someone would report it to the police, alerting her father afterwards, and by then it would be too late.

Putting the car into park, she grabbed her backpack and walked towards the automatic doors leading into the airport. With a smirk, Caroline threw the car keys into the nearest trash can, knowing she'd never need them again.

Mustering up a healthy dose of confidence, she headed into the airport as if there was nothing strange about appearing there at half past one in the morning. She was not at all surprised to find that there were only about ten other people walking around, two of which were employees. Clearing her throat, Caroline approached a security officer and quietly asked where she could buy a plane ticket. The officer, a short, balding man with an awful mustache, raised his almost none-existent eyebrows at her before pointing her in the direction. Muttering a quiet "thank you," she went off in the direction he had pointed her in.

Sitting at the check-in counter sat an older woman, her eyes drooping slightly as she struggled to stay awake. The younger girl cleared her throat to alert the other woman of her presence, and the woman in question shot up, surprised clearly etched into the lines of her face.

"Is there something I can help you with, dear?" she asked and Caroline took note that the woman was clearly, strangely enough, excited to see her. She supposed that the woman didn't have to do much during the late night hours, and with no one to talk to, her main duty was probably attempting to not fall asleep.

"Um…yes. An officer over there said I could buy a plane ticket here. Is that correct?" the younger girl questioned, slightly unsure of herself. This was her first trip the airport by herself and she was not sure what to do. However, the woman behind the counter nodded quickly.

"Yes, most definitely. Where are you headed off to?"

"London."

"Oh, well that certainly is quite the distance," The woman stated before frowning. Bethany, as her name tag declared her, took in the girl's appearance and her frown immediately deepened, clearly assessing her. Caroline sighed, for she knew her appearance left a lot to be desired at the moment. She was aware that her mascara was severely smeared from the tears she had shed earlier, and she knew that her hair resembled a bird's nest and that her clothes could have used an iron to soothe the wrinkles. She naturally assumed that the woman was passing judgment on her. Instead, she was surprised to find the hesitant but warm smile that the woman offered her. "Are you sure that's where you want to go?"

"Yes…um, my aunt called me and told me that my uncle had a…a…heart attack," Caroline lied quickly, noticing the woman's raised eyebrows, possibly at the fact that she hadn't said anything about her parents. However, as polite as Caroline was acting, she honestly did not give a shit. It was none of the of lady's business where she was going, or why, so she quickly snapped, "Look, I'm kinda in a hurry, so can you help me or not?"

"Yes, give me just one moment. Hmm…it seems you're in luck. We have a red eye flight departing for London in about an hour and a half."

"Great, I'll take a one-way ticket, please." Bethany nodded and quickly asked for her passport. The girl handed it over, for once grateful that her parents had dragged her to Canada a few months ago for her grandfather's funeral, a man she had never met once in her life. It had been one of the most boring experiences in her life, and not to mention she had missed several days of school just before her finals. Snapping out of it, Caroline glanced back at the lady behind the counter. Bethany, noticing the girl's far-off look, assessed her again, and the glanced back down at the passport, confirming that it was indeed her, before rapidly typing some stuff into the computer.

"Okay, Caroline, your totally comes to 906 dollars and 68 cents. Is your backpack the only piece of luggage you have?" the woman questioned, turning her head back to the girl just in time to see her jaw drop in dismay. Nodding, the girl handed over the money, all cash, wincing as she did so. That had been way over what she thought it would be, but she still had a good five hundred left. _Oh well_, Caroline sighed mentally, _it'll be worth it_. "Your flight leaves at 3:07 a.m. from terminal EM. You'll make one stop in Detroit around 7:45 later this morning, and then continue on to London, arriving around one o'clock PM in the afternoon, our time, eight o'clock PM London time. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thank you. I think I've got it covered."

"Well, have a safe flight. I do hope that your uncle is alright." The woman gave her a wink, alerting Caroline to the fact that the woman did, indeed, know that she had been lying. The younger girl grinned warily back at her before she continued on her way.

After going through all sorts of security required for general flights, and then those required for flights going out of the country that nearly took an hour, despite it now being two o'clock in the morning, she arrived at the right gate. She made a quick stop in the restroom and attempted to make herself more presentable. She washed the mascara stains off of her face, glad that her fair, clear skin required no sort of foundation or concealor that would need to be fixed as well, seeing as how she had brought none with her. Though, now that she thought about it, it would have been nice to get rid of the circles beneath her eyes. She then pulled her brush out of her backpack and proceeded to brush out all of the tangles in her hair before securing it in a ponytail with the extra hair tie she always carried on her wrist. Sighing, Caroline knew that there was nothing she could do to fix her clothes so she left it at that.

Wandering around for a few minutes, Caroline finally found the collection of chairs waiting right by the gate where her plane would pull up to. She pulled out the water bottle she had bought just a few minutes ago and put her headphones in her ears. She tried, but failed, to calm down as she told herself that she pretty much in the clear. She had gotten away from her parents and had paid for her ticket with cash, making sure that no one would be able to trace where she had flown off to, even when they found her dad's car. However, despite this, years of habit had her glancing over her shoulder every two minutes to make sure that no one was sneaking up on her.

Caroline waited another ten minutes before her flight was called. Picking up her backpack, she walked over to the terminal, handed the man her ticket, and walked on to the plane, her heart pounding in nervousness and anticipation. It took another twenty minutes for the plane to actually leave, but she ignored the flight attendants as they explained all the emergency procedures, instead, focusing ahead of her.

On the chair in front of her, a movie she wasn't very well acquainted with, but had heard of, played, drawing her attention from the flight attendant how moved quickly down the aisle to take her seat as the plane took off. She turned her iPod off and stuffed her headphones into the jack that connected her to the movie, and was instantly downright amused. Who knew that an angst filled romance between a teenage girl and a vampire could ever draw attention away from all that had transpired that night?

After all, today, _yesterday_, she quickly corrected herself, had been one of the worst days of her life. It had been the breaking point.

And sadly, it had also been her twentieth birthday.

**/N** This IS a Scabior/OC fanfic with a twist, though I promise it will be interesting. Please review with any questions or constructive criticisms. While I do live in Denver, I have never been to the airport at one o'clock in the morning, and I have never been out of country, so I really do not know how my imagination of what it would be like comes close to how it actually is. I apologize if I'm a little (or a lot) off. But thank you for reading anyways!

The title is the song "Night Drive" by the All-American Rejects.


	2. Now or Never

****

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 2: Now or Never**

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now arriving at our destination. It is approximately 8: 17 p.m. London time and a chilly five degrees Celsius, or forty-one degrees Fahrenheit for our American passengers. There is a thirty percent chance of snow, so make sure to bundle up and buy yourself a nice warm cup of tea. Thank for traveling with us today and we hope you enjoy your stay!"

The captain's voice flowing through the speakers on the plane jolted her awake. Her heart pounding, it took Caroline a few seconds to take in her surroundings before remembering that she was safe. Letting out a strangled breath of relief, she sat up straighter in her seat and glanced outside the plane window. The city below her, shrouded in the darkness that was the night, was lit beautifully, not unlike the large cities back in the states. However, even from above, the city almost gave off a feeling of other worldliness and agelessness, separating the city from its counterparts. For the first time in days, Caroline let a true smile grace her heart-shaped face as the impact of what she done once again settled in.

She stuffed her iPod into her bag, regretfully noticing that she had forgotten her charger at home and that it was almost out of battery. With a sudden rush of excitement, she unbuckled her seat belt as the plane came to a complete stop. Caroline slipped the straps of her backpack on to her shoulders, said a quick thank you to the captain and the crew, and exited the plane. She walked through customs, once again surrendering her passport over to the security and was welcomed to the country.

And boy, oh boy, was it good to finally be there.

After navigating herself through the airport, which was harder than it looked, she was finally able to find a place where she could exchange her US money for UK currency. The lady behind the glass gave Caroline a bored look as she counted out the correct amount before handing it over to her. Satisfied that she had enough to last for a little while, she made her way outside and froze.

The girl mentally slapped herself for bringing nothing more than a sweatshirt. But that was her, never really thinking ahead. Often times, she preferred to do something in the spur of the moment as it gave her a sense of actually being in control of her life. Her parents were the type of people who planned everything out perfectly; from how exactly the red on the walls was going to match the rug, and where Caroline was going to go to school, and what she was going to study. They also meticulously planned out when was the best time to get smashed, without any consequences the next morning. Caroline liked to think that she had inherited nothing from her parents but a few simple physical characteristics.

Looking around, Caroline noticed with despair that four inches of snow covered the ground, and the large holes in her tennis shoes were bound to present a problem as well, especially when her thin ankle socks were added to the picture. If only she had taken her sudden trip to England back in August, like she had originally decided.

Caroline sighed, realizing that there was nothing she could do about it now, and made her away over to where she saw people hailing cabs.

Feeling like an idiot, she waved her arm and attempted to get a cabbie to notice her. No such luck. Her tiny five-foot-four frame was easily missed and forgotten about amongst the other travelers. Every time she saw one heading her way, someone was able to catch the cabbie's attention before she could, further aggravating her. She thought back to all the movies she had seen where all the person had to do was raise their arm and cab came towards them, and then quickly cursed them for making it look so easy, for it certainly was not.

Shivering, she stood there for ten minutes before a nice, older gentleman, far taller than herself and easily seen above the crowd, took pity on her and flagged down a cab for her. Blushing bright red when he winked at her, she thanked him before sliding inside the car. Caroline immediately thanked the heavens for the heat as she attempted to warm up her hands.

"Where to, miss?" the cabbie asked. For a second she stared, taking in his heavy English accent and smile that could have used a few years of braces. However, she quickly snapped herself out of it.

"Um…this place. I have the address," Caroline stated nervously, handing over a piece of paper that she had kept in her wallet. She had placed it in there a few months ago when she seriously began to consider leaving, and now she was glad for doing so. In her haste leaving her house earlier, she had not even thought about it. In fact, it wasn't until she was halfway across the Atlantic that she had remembered it and had nearly had a panic attack while looking for it. Without that simple address, her entire trip would have been in vain.

"Miss, this address is at least one hundred miles out of the city, perhaps more. I'm afraid that I can only stay in London and the cities that closely neighbor it," the man told her regretfully. He handed her the paper slip back and watched as the girl's eyes lowered in disappointment.

"Oh," she said, her cheeks burning. Slightly embarrassed, she placed the slip back into her wallet and her hand went to grab the door handle. "Never mind then. Thank you though."

"Hold on just a second, miss. I can still take you to the train station. I'm quite positive that they'll have trains running out that way," the cabbie offered, feeling sorry for the poor girl. Caroline's eyes met his hopefully.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes, now get back in. I'll take you to King's Cross," the man stated with finality. She nodded, shifted back into the seat, instantly relieved.

"Thank you so much," she told him graciously. The guy nodded and took off, looking over his shoulder to make sure the road was clear as he merged. For a split second, Caroline panicked as she watched him get into what she thought was the wrong way. Images of a car hitting them head on clouded her head before she finally realized that cars travelled on the opposite side of the road in England as they did in the United States. Caroline snickered, mentally acknowledging her own stupidity.

"You're American?"the cabbie questioned after a few moments of silence, already knowing the answer. He looked in his rear view mirror and watched as she nodded her head. "Which state?"

"Um…Colorado," she replied after spacing out for a second. Her eyes were too busy taking in everything around her as they drove through the city. She found herself wishing that once she was where she was headed, she would be able to come back and visit this city for a few days.

"Oh. Honestly, I do not know much about Colorado," the cabbie replied truthfully.

"It's ok. No one ever does," she snickered. "You'd be surprised at the number of people I've met that think we ride horses everywhere." He laughed. A short pause followed.

"My nephew," the man started again, trying to keep up the conversation, "just moved out to the United States for school a few months ago. He was accepted into Harvard. Have you heard of it?"

Unwittingly, the girl snorted. "Who hasn't?" The cabbie simply smiled and let the conversation come to an end. He weaved the cab through the traffic, it _was_ Saturday night after all, and they had arrived at their destination within fifteen minutes. He pulled over, and as she fished the money out of her purse, he shook his head.

"Miss, don't worry about it."

"What?" the girl looked up at him sharply, her hand frozen. The cabbie gave her a warm smile and shook his head.

"Miss, I'll give you a break. You're new to the country, that much is obvious, and you look like no one has ever given you a break before. Keep your money." The girl sat there for a brief second before returning the smile and opening the door.

"Thank you so much, sir." And with that, she got out of the car, shut the door carefully, and walked into the train station, a slight spring in her step….

….which quickly faded when the lady told her how much the train ticket was. Sighing in resignation, she pulled the money out of her bag, scrambling to figure out the correct amount of money in the foreign currency. The lady behind the window simply stared at her in frustration as she watched a line gather behind her. Once she had handed over the correct amount, the lady stuck her nose in the air, gave Caroline her ticket, and called out a "Next!" without so much as a "Have a nice trip." Caroline bristled at her rudeness.

Slightly agitated, the girl sat down on a bench by the platform where her train would leave from. Not only did the train ticket leave her with roughly a fourth of the money she had started with when she left her house, but it didn't even take her to her exact destination, _and_ would leave her in the middle of nowhere at around twelve in the morning. Once off the train, she would have to walk about two miles to the neighborhood she was trying to get to as there was virtually no means of public transportation in that area. She knew her aunt lived in a remote part of the country, but she certainly hadn't expected this.

However, despite the complications, the girl tried to remain positive, and quickly banished the thoughts from her mind.

Once on the train, which had been _very_ late, her nerves began to set in once she got past her annoyance. For the majority of the journey from her house, she had been fueled by anger and a strong need to get away from her parents. From their hatred. From her life that had so swiftly gone to shit. All she could think about was how much she had needed to get away, how much she needed freedom from her controlling and, more often than not, abusive, parents. However, she hadn't really put much thought into what she would do once she had arrived in England.

Caroline glanced down at the address written on the piece of paper she had pulled out of her wallet. Her stomach turned.

What if her aunt didn't want her there?

Truthfully, she had never even met the woman. In fact, Caroline had never even heard of her Aunt Athena until just a few months ago. She remembered her mother coming home, sifting through the daily mail, and freezing when she came upon a letter in a rough, beige-colored envelope. Caroline had watched as the blood drained from her mother's face as she opened the letter with shaking hands.

Fascinated by her mother's reactions, Caroline had stopped peeling the potatoes she had set out for dinner and sat there, observing her mother. And was completely shocked when a tear had rolled down her cheek followed, curiously, by a loud shriek of anger.

Her mother had refused to answer any questions concerning the letter for days.

However, a month went by, and when she had found her mother stumbling through the kitchen, obviously drunk, Caroline quickly cornered her and demanded to know what the letter had been about. And that was the night Caroline found out about her aunt who was currently living in England.

Apparently, her Aunt Athena had abandoned her mother when she had "needed her the most" and her mother had been forced to move to America. The bond had been broken between the sisters and Caroline instinctively knew that it had most likely been her mother's fault. Caroline had always known that her mother was not a natural born United States citizen, and now her curiosity surrounding her mother's relocation had tripled.

Not only had Caroline craved freedom, but also answers that might explain her mother's behavior towards her all those years.

So, in the dead of night, Caroline had tip-toed into her parents' bedroom, and ripped and stolen the piece of paper containing her aunt's address, and placed it in her wallet for safe keeping. But now, very close to completing her journey to her aunt's house, Caroline found herself wondering about all the possible things that could go wrong.

What if her aunt wanted nothing to do with her?

What if the address was wrong?

What if she had moved?

What if she had _died_?

Thoughts like those quickly broke down her confidence and her anxiety rapidly escalated in the hour it took to get there. However, as the train slowed to a stop, the girl forced herself to forget all worries. Caroline told herself that she would get where she was headed, and if things didn't turn out the way she wanted them to, she would figure it out from there.

She stepped off the train, wincing as the cold hit her in all directions. This town, if it could even be called that, didn't even have a train station. Just a platform. That wasn't even shoveled.

The snow quickly seeped into her shoes and the girl bit her lip, but continued on. Glancing around, more evidence that this town had to have a population of less than maybe one hundred, was the fact that there was not a single building in site. Thankfully, there was a road.

But just one. And, from what she could tell, it was a _dirt _road.

"Fantastic," Caroline grumbled beneath her breath.

Apparently her life as an American citizen had spoiled her.

Sighing in resignation, she pulled the pepper spray out of her backpack, held it tightly in her hand, and set off. The snow crunched beneath her feet and the cold air, already fifteen degrees lower than it had been when she had gotten off the plane, bit at her face brutally. She hugged her arms around her body to brace it from the cold as much as she could and tried to ignore it. Keeping her eyes ahead of her, Caroline noticed with even further dismay that the road would be taking her into a rather large patch of trees.

She stopped. Biting her lip, she seriously considered walking back to the train platform and waiting for the morning. On the platform, there would at least be some shelter from the wind, and the snow that was already beginning to fall lightly to the ground. Caroline stood there, considering the options, before deciding to continue walking, cursing her own stupidity.

Instead of immediately rushing off to the train station, what she should have done was found a cheap hotel to stay in for the night. Then, she could have set off on the last leg of her journey with plenty of rest and, more importantly, in the daylight. But she had just been too unprepared and too anxious to get to her aunt to really consider what she was doing. And now she was paying for it.

She had never cursed her lack of learning how to plan ahead more than she did now.

Thoughts of being kidnapped by some sort of villain lurking within the trees, or being attacked by a wild animal, filled her mind. As a result, Caroline's eyes darted in every direction as she hugged herself even tighter. The street lamps that followed the road did nothing to ease her nerves.

Especially because thirty feet separated each from the next one, and she could already count three in her direct line of vision that were out.

Nearly thirty minutes later and she was still walking. By then, her feet were nearly frozen and she couldn't feel her face anymore. Her teeth were chattering so loudly that if anyone _was_ waiting just beyond the trees for her, they surely would have heard her by now. However, she journeyed on, thinking of a warm fireplace and hot chocolate, and an equally warm reception from her aunt. And just when Caroline thought she saw lights up ahead, signaling that she had finally found the actual town, she heard something.

A twig snapped.

Terrified, the girl stopped. Stopped walking, stopping breathing…her teeth even stopped chattering, as if they knew the danger she was in. She stood like that for several seconds, ears listening intently for any other sound…but nothing came to her. Sighing shakily, she took two steps forward before…

Another twig snapped.

Without thinking, she ran. Her legs took her as fast as they could, but it didn't matter. Her foot slipped on a large sheet of ice and she crashed to the ground, crying out in pain as she did so. Caroline struggled to get up, but coupled with the ice, her panic wouldn't allow it. Crying out in distress, she sat there, shaking…and then she felt it.

A presence behind her.

She didn't know how she knew someone was standing behind her, but she did. She just_ did._ She instantly stopped moving, praying uselessly that her gut feeling was wrong. And when a minute passed by and nothing happened, she almost started to believe that maybe she truly was alone. But then…

"Hello, beautiful."

* * *

**A/N** There's the second chapter. Again, things might not be truly accurate. I've never been to London, so I don't know what its airport looks like, nor do I know if there is actually a place inside where one can exchange currencies. I don't know if cabs there can only go so far, to me it's logical, but I just kinda made it up. I just used my imagination for a quite a bit of this chapter, especially when it came to walking towards the town, but seeing as how it fits into where I'm taking the story, I needed to. Sorry if it's a bit boring, but now it should start picking up.

The title of this chapter is the song "Now or Never" by Three Days Grace.

Thank you for reading and please review!


	3. Points of Authority

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 3: Points of Authority**

**

* * *

**

A scream caught in Caroline's throat.

She gasped for breath, but somehow air refused to flow down into her lungs.

Shaking, she squeezed her eyes shut and refused to turn around, not wanting to look her fate in the eye just yet. If she could just put it off for a few minutes, maybe she'd have time to think about a way to get out of this situation she had so foolhardily put herself in.

Instead, she sat there, her heart pounding relentlessly in her ears, praying that the voice had been just her imagination.

Because that _voice_ had been _terrifying_.

Not because it signified the presence of someone who probably would harm her, but because of the way it had sounded.

Sardonic.

Mocking.

As if her future attacker was already laughing at her futile attempts to escape him. And the way he had managed to infuse the sound of morbid curiosity into his tone of voice, she knew she was in deep trouble.

Life threatening trouble.

Another couple of seconds, though they felt like years to her, passed by as she fought for her body to calm down. In order to survive, she needed to be able to think, be able to do anything she needed to do at any moment to save her life. She almost cried out in distress when she realized that the pepper spray she had been holding early must have flown out of her hand when she fell.

"What? Not going to turn around and greet me properly?" the voice came again. Caroline jumped, but didn't say anything. A few more seconds passed. "No? Oh come on, you're hurting my feelings, love." Silence met her ears for a few more seconds.

"Nothing? Well that's a shame. Guess I'll just have to come to you then." Caroline's body tensed even further as she heard footsteps approaching her, but still she couldn't move, her body still in shock and numb from the large sheet of ice she was currently sitting on. The footsteps halted once they were directly in front of her and Caroline finally opened her eyes to see a pair of large black boots about a foot away from her own feet. She whimpered when a hand was suddenly thrust into her line of vision.

She stared at it.

"Well? Aren't you going to take it?" he asked. Caroline shook her head, not trusting herself not to scream. "Come on, love, don't make me force you." He was mocking her again, but Caroline was smart enough know that a threat was buried behind those words. Without looking up at the man, she grabbed his calloused hand and allowed him to pull her up. Once standing again, she immediately jumped another foot away from him.

"Well, well, well. Aren't you a pretty one?"Caroline's head snapped up when he spoke again, and her eyes widened when she noticed how tall he was. Caroline had hoped, in vain she now knew, that he would be a small, wiry man that she could easily out maneuver and run away from. But that was not the case.

The man was huge.

He must have been at least six foot two, and while he was thin, he was broad shouldered, easily being double her size. Caroline knew, while taking in his large frame, she would have no chance at escaping from him. And when she looked into his ice blue eyes for the first time, outlined with coal and daring her to challenge him, she didn't want to. Because she already intensely feared what would happen to her if she tried.

She took a step back, trying to distance herself from the man, but his arms reached out unexpectedly and grabbed her arms before she could get too far.

"Where do you think you're off to?" he asked, grinning sardonically. "Certainly not the way you came?" Caroline quickly shook her head, having lost even the nerve to speak. She thought foolishly, that after so many years of dealing with her parents, that she'd be able to handle a situation like this. But she was wrong. She had never feared a man more in her life than she did now. Finding it hard to stare into his eyes any longer, she allowed herself to take in his appearance even more. She wasn't sure that she liked what she saw.

His long, dark hair, complete with a blood red streak that was slightly faded, was gathered haphazardly at the nape of his neck, secured with some sort of fabric. A few pieces of hair had managed to escape the tie and were instead simply tucked behind his ear, giving him a devil-may-care look.

Caroline momentarily wondered if her own sable hair looked the same way.

He wore a long, dark leather coat of some kind that fell to his knees and had certainly seen better days. Plaid pants were tugged into his boots and he wore, curiously, a pink shirt beneath the jacket. And as if his outfit couldn't get any _weirder_, a pink scarf tied around his neck finished it off.

"Now, what is a lovely thing, such as yourself, doing wandering around in a forest so late at night?"The man's deep voice pulled her out of her thoughts, causing her to jump once more. The man smiled, noticing and delighting in her obvious fear. Caroline didn't answer, but he continued anyways. "Obviously you knew it would be dangerous, so it makes me curious as to why you would attempt it, especially with everything that's been going on in this area lately. You're lucky that I was here…to save you. From any harm, of course."

At that, Caroline's eyes watered instantly and tears spilled over. The man's tone of voice had certainly implied that _he_ was actually the one she needed to be saved _from_. Caroline had always been proud of quick mind, and her strength to stand up for herself, but right now her courage was failing her.

"It would have been a great loss for the world to lose such a pretty face," he went on, "though, I must admit, I am severely questioning your intelligence." Caroline's eyes met his once more, which were still cold and calculating, though a spark of interest could be seen as well. She flinched when his hand moved from her arm to wipe away one of her tears, but he ignored it as a smirk grew on his face.

Caroline was just about to tell him to get his dirty hand off of her cheek when a shout came from the forest and the man's attention turned to her left.

With a sudden surge of courage, she ripped the man's hands off of her and kicked him in the shin as hard as she could, effectively pushing him away from her. She turned around and ran as fast as she could, only to crash into a hard, solid body just seconds later. Instantly, hands gripped her hard, not caring that there would be bruises later. A blood-curdling scream of fear burst from her lips as she struggled with all her might to get away.

"Let go of me! Let go!" Caroline shrieked, hoping someone from the town that she had been _so_ close to heard her. Tears poured down her cheeks as her nails clawed at the body, obviously male judging by the height, and her feet kicked out, finding purchase several times. None of this deterred the body holding her and in fact, his grip only seemed to tighten.

The hands turned her body away from him with brute force, pulled her tightly up against his chest, and held a knife up to her throat.

Caroling stopped moving. But tears continued to slide down her face.

Before she could blink, the man from earlier was in her face again, the mocking grin gone, replaced with a scowl. His eyes were hard and unforgiving as he stared down at her.

"So, you do talk. Good. I was beginning to think you were mute," he began furiously. Caroline did her best to wiggle away from him, but his hand shot out and grabbed her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "No, I want my questions answered, and I want them answered now. Or else, the first to go are your fingers."

Caroline cried even harder, but she nodded.

"Good pet. Now, your name. Tell me your name," he demanded.

"Caroline," she immediately answered, her voice raw from the screaming and crying. So raw, that the man didn't even notice her accent.

"Surname?"

"Adams."

The man nodded. He suddenly looked over her shoulder, shouting out, "Check it!" to someone who was obviously behind her.

"Sure thing, boss!" came the reply a second later. The man focused his eyes back on her.

"Now, Miss Adams, what is your purpose walking through the forest after midnight, heading towards Godric's Hollow?"

"Why-"

"The name's clear, Scabior! She ain't on the list," the same voice called out suddenly. The man, now officially dubbed as 'Scabior' nodded, not taking his eyes off Caroline.

"You were saying?"

"I…uh…I…why does it matter? Why-" but again Caroline was cut off.

"Fenrir," Scabior growled, his eyes darting up to the man who was holding her. A second later, a foot came slamming down on to hers. Blinding pain erupted in her as she screamed out in agony. A hot new batch of tears blinded her as she continued to cry, sobbing through the pain. She would have fallen over if it weren't for the man, Fenrir, holding her. As it were, Scabior's hand was still tightly gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him. Despite her tears, he grinned, that same mocking grin that had been on his face earlier.

"I asked you a question and I expect you to answer it. That was only a taste of what we can, and will do to you, if you don't cooperate. Now tell me what you were doing!" Caroline still sobbed as she looked at him.

"I…I…w-was h-headed to my a-aunt's house. The t-t-train dropped m-m-me off about a mile a-a-away and I h-h-had to walk," she stuttered through her tears. Scabior's gaze held no sympathy for her as he asked for her aunt's name. She immediately told him, though she truthfully only knew her last name hoping that he wouldn't question it further.

"Last name?" So much for that.

"Uh…Swan," she quickly fibbed, suddenly and randomly remembering the movie from earlier. He nodded, and Caroline was surprised that he bought it. Her acting skills had always been mediocre at best.

"What's your blood status?"

"What?" Caroline asked without thinking about it. The questions had caught her off guard and she wasn't sure how to answer it. She watched as Scabior raised his eyes to the man holding her again and she stiffened.

"No!" she cried out. "Please, p-please d-don't hurt me! I don't k-know w-w-what you're talking a-about."

Scabior's eyebrows rose.

The man behind her snorted.

Caroline trembled.

"Stop trying to be funny, witch. Answer the question, or this time, it will be your fingers for certain," Scabior growled into her face. A dark, manic laugh came from the guy holding her.

"I could always bite her to check for ya, boss," he said. Caroline's mouth dropped open, unsure of what to make of that. Scabior shook his head but managed a short laugh.

"No," Scabior immediately shot the other man down. "I'll be nice and give my precious Caroline one last try. Now, answer the question, beautiful, or it'll be your fingers for sure this time." Caroline's eyes widened.

"I-I t-think that I'm AB p-p-positive! But I-I'm not s-s-sure how that s-s-supposed to help y-y-you," Caroline told him, hoping her answer was sufficient. She braced herself for the pain though when she watched his eyes darken.

"Are you being _serious_?" he hissed. She quickly nodded her head. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. I promise." For some reason, his eyes widened as if he had suddenly noticed something. His eyes roamed her face and body again as if trying to figure something out. He opened his mouth to speak and Caroline feared the worst.

"Where are you from?" Scabior demanded softly, though his face took on a look of curiosity. Caroline stared at him, surprised.

"E-excuse me?"

"Is there something wrong with your hearing?"

"No-"

"I asked where you are from. Are you from England? Scotland? Ireland?"

"No-"

"Wherethen?"

"Denver, Colorado."

"_Where_?"

"The United States," she finally answered, confusion etching on her face. For a few moments, the pain in her foot dulled to a throbbing and tears subsided.

"Damn it!" Scabior hissed unexpectedly as he pulled himself away from her. Caroline watched in fascination as he backed up a few feet and stared at her, his eyebrows narrowing. For a few minutes, he just looked at her. From her long, dark messy hair that slightly covered her pale face that was streaked with dirt and tears, to her faded pink sweatshirt and dirty jeans, and then to the old tennis shoes. His ice blue eyes met her dark brown ones before he cursed again, this time more quietly.

"Where's your wand?" Caroline's jaw dropped as again one of his questions stunned her.

"My _what_?" A bark of mocking laughter escaped from Scabior's lips.

"I have had it with your games, witch. Hand over your wand!"He began striding towards her again, murder written clearly on his face. By this point, her tears had completely stopped. She was too busy staring at the man like he was crazy. _Wand?_ Her brain repeated the word over and over in her head. _Why the hell would I have a wand?_

And without even thinking about it the words, "Are you _crazy_?" slipped out of her mouth.

He stopped.

A growl grumbled in the chest of the main behind her.

And without warming, she heard a snap, a split second before pain exploded in her left hand.

Two of her fingers had been broken.

And by the looks of the man storming towards her, eyes narrowed in rage and hands clenched in fists at his side, Caroline had a feeling that her entire body was about to be broken as well.

* * *

**A/N**: First of all, what do you think? Does Caroline run the risk of becoming a Mary-sue?

Second: I want to address a couple of things. 1) Yes, Caroline is a muggle. Kinda. Everything will be explained later. 2) I hope you don't think Caroline's reaction to everything was over the top. I like to think that I would totally be brave in a situation where a bunch of guys were threatening my life, but in reality, I think I'd be screaming and crying the entire time. 3) This is more movie-verse than book-verse. Meaning, Scabior's the one in charge, not Fenrir. 4) In this fic, Scabior is obviously going to be a little more educated than he was in the book. Meaning: he knows how to make complete sentences and use correct grammar. 5) Yes, I know, Scabior's reaction is probably a little more extreme than it should have been. Scabior is a Snatcher, and it is, after his all, his job is to torture people into giving him information. And, more importantly, I think you should remember that Scabior is the bad guy, for the most part. Things might change later though. 6) Yes, she was headed towards Godric's Hollow. I wasn't exactly sure how far it was out of London, so I just guessed. And this scene takes place in the middle of November, long before Harry and Hermione get there.

So, if anyone has any more questions that I have not addressed, just ask.

The title of this chapter is "Points of Authority" by Linkin Park

And again, thank you for reading and please review!


	4. Dance With the Devil

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 4: Dance with the Devil**

**

* * *

**Scabior stopped right in front of her. A sneer twisted on his face as he towered over her, taking in her horrified appearance. He took a quick fleeting look down at her hand and just his look make the throbbing double. It was almost as if he had willed it on her, simply by looking at it, but she knew that that was crazy.

She _felt_ crazy for even thinking of it.

She risked a quick glance down at her hand herself and though she had only had a few crackers and banana within the past twenty-four hours, she stomach heaved as she took in their twisted angles and the bruises that were already beginning to appear.

"No, my lovely, I am not crazy. Give me your wand."

"I…I don't have one." Scabior laughed outright, his mood seeming to have changed. His mocking demeanor from earlier was back and Caroline wasn't sure which one she liked least. She flinched at the thought of what either side of him could do to her.

"Caroline, as much fun as I'm having at the moment, I can guarantee _you_ will not be having any if you do not do as I ask."

"But I'm serious! I don't have a wand! I don't know why you think I would!" She protested. She was beginning to think that the man _was_ insane. What kind of man ambushed a girl well after midnight, in the middle of a forest, and demanded to give him her wand? Caroline, through her pain, was thoroughly confused. Her eyes darted around the forest as if something hidden in there could give her some sort of clue to his, and that of his companions, behavior.

"That's ridiculous," he released what sounded suspiciously like a snort. "What kind of witch doesn't own a _wand?_"Caroline didn't know it, but apparently her eyes could widen to the point where it caused her pain. Her jaw dropped a few inches and the breath she had been holding became a puff of white as it met the frigid air. By now, her tears had completely stopped because she was too busy trying to figure out what his game was.

Was this a prank? Some sort of sick joke, or perhaps a dare? Maybe he had recently escaped from a mental institution of some sort…? With a gulp, she shakily answered him, not wanting to provoke him into hurting her again.

"I'm not a witch."

Scabior froze. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting that one. He actually took a step back, shocked by her statement. A few seconds passed before….

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly how it sounds. I'm not a…a…a _witch_." Again, a shocked silence filled the air. Caroline's tongue darted out nervously to wet her lips as she waited for his outburst that she knew was sure to come.

"What do you mean you're not a witch? Of course you are!" Scabior shouted incredulously, anger lacing his tone. "Why else would you be travelling to Godric's Hollow?"

"I told you, I was travelling to my aunt's house." A slap echoed throughout the woods. Caroline gasped as her left cheek began to sting, and stared at Scabior in horror as he lowered his hand. She started to raise her hand to touch her cheek, but the slightest movement of her left hand caused her to cry out in pain.

"Er, if I may boss, there be muggles who live there too," the same voice that had spoken earlier from behind her interrupted them. The man in front of her rolled his eyes.

"Yes, McCaslin, I _know_ that," Scabior snapped. "But this girl is not a _muggle_."

Quietly, as if not to startle anyone, Caroline asked, "What's a muggle?"

Immediately, laughter erupted around her. Scabior, Fenrir, McCaslin, and a few other men who she hadn't yet noticed, were laughing. At _her_.

As is _she_ was the crazy one talking about witches and wands.

Self-consciously, she looked around, wincing when the knife still being held to her throat dug into her skin, causing long line of blood to trickle down her throat.

"Damn, boss, ya gotta admit, the girl is good," a voice snorted from a couple of feet to her left.

"The skirt's gotta pretty face. Maybe, when we're done interrogatin' her, sir, we could find out if she's good…at other things. If you catch me drift," yet another voice added lecherously. Laughter and howls erupted in the forest again. The hand that had been wrapped around her middle suddenly reached out and grabbed her breast. Caroline let out a high-pitched whimper, her heart hammering.

"Hey! None of that, Fenrir," Scabior suddenly snapped.

"But boss-"

"I said no," he repeated. Scabior turned back to her. "A muggle is a person who has no magical ability. Though I know you are already are aware of _that_, Caroline. Perhaps you're a squib?"

"I don't know what that is either."Scabior scoffed.

"Of course you don't," he said sarcastically. "Fine. Let's entertain the idea that you really have no idea what we're talking about. What reason could you possibly have to be going to your aunt's house so late at night?"

"My aunt…she called earlier saying that my uncle was sick," Caroline quickly gave the lie she had given the airport employee that she had met earlier. Scabior looked at her dryly, and it was plain for her to see that he didn't believe her. She continued anyways. "I was coming out to help her. I left my house as soon as I heard the news and got on the first flight available to London. It's not my fault that London time is seven hours ahead of Colorado time."

"Why not stop for somewhere to sleep before coming out here in the morning?"

"Uh…I was anxious to get out here," Caroline explained, which was pretty close to the truth. "And I was afraid I wouldn't have enough money for a hotel." She didn't want to admit that she hadn't even considered that idea until she had gotten off the train. And by then it had been too late.

"And what about your parents?" Caroline froze. She had expected the question, but she was still unprepared on how to answer it. Squirming in the tough hold Fenrir had her in, she mumbled something under her breath. "What was that, beautiful?"

"They don't know I'm here," she muttered, but she knew he heard her. His eyebrows rose. Caroline lowered her eyes, avoiding eye contact with his. She hoped it would be easier to continue lying if she didn't have to look at him.

"And why's that, lovely?" he questioned.

"Um…my parents were busy…with work. " She then added defensively, "Besides, I'm old enough to travel without their permission." He merely raised his eyebrows, and Caroline briefly wondered it was just a natural reaction of his whenever he was trying to intimidate someone. And as simple as the gesture was, it was definitely working on her.

"They couldn't take off? Not even for a close relative?"

"They weren't very close. I knew they wouldn't approve of me going, so I left without them, and didn't tell my aunt I was coming," she said slowly. However, she knew she shouldn't have said anything when out the corner of her eye she noticed a large smirk grow on his face. Caroline gulped loudly.

"So, no one knows where you are?" Caroline immediately realized her error the second the words left his mouth. Slowly, knowing there was no one out of it, she shook her head.

"Well, I suppose that works to our advantage, doesn't it boys?" Scabior grinned around at the other men with them. "Not that anything would have stopped us from taking you anyways."

"Wait, what? I thought you believed me. I'm not a witch! You can let me go now!" Caroline began panicking again. She thought that her story, while false in a few aspects, would have convinced him. Apparently her acting skills had worn off, though they seemed to have worked earlier. Scabior looked at her, reaching out to tug on a long lock of dark hair that had escaped her ponytail.

"I don't remember saying _that,_ love," he smiled. Again, like earlier, he was clearly mocking her. "Even if you are a _muggle_," he spat, making it clear to Caroline just we thought of people without magical ability, "I would still be taking you with me. You and all your half-truths have interested me. You'll be coming with us." A few howls of excitement sounded in her ears and began thinking of all these guys were already planning on doing with her.

"But-"

"Beautiful, I really don't think you're in any position to argue with me," Scabior outright laughed at her protest.

"Why do you even want me? What, are you going to burn me at the stake or something?" Caroline snapped.

A bark of laughter left Scabior's lips. "What's this, beautiful? Do you actually have some sort of backbone? Are you finally done with your crying fit?" Caroline glared at him. Though she was still petrified, her chin rose and she met his gaze evenly. Anger at her unfair treatment began to surge through her, and though she knew she should shut her mouth, she went on.

The courage that had so quickly failed her before suddenly reappeared.

"Yes, I do, _Scabior,_" said scathingly. "Though I don't imagine you do. It doesn't take much courage to attack a young girl when you've got God knows how many other men with you."

"Attack? Is that what I did? Funny, I thought it was more like simply interrogating."

"Interrogating implies that the person actually has some useful knowledge and I have made it clear that I have none. I know nothing about wands or witches or blood status so it would be wise of you to let me go," Caroline informed him, ignoring the snickers around her. She also refused to acknowledge the way Scabior was currently leering at her, as if she were some sort of meat.

"Why's that, my lovely? What kind of empty threats are you about to hand to me?"

"Just you wait. No one may know where I am at the moment, but someone will notice soon that I am gone. Then they'll go to the authorities and-"but she was cut off by another burst of laughter.

"Love, we _are_ the authority," Scabior grinned down at her in a sort of sadistic amusement. "If anything, they'll applaud our capture of you. Besides, if your parents' opinion means so little to you, I can only imagine that they wouldn't care." Caroline winced as he hit close to home. His satisfied grin let her know he had noticed. But still she focused on the thing he had said before that.

"Capture?"

"Yes, capture. Did you not hear me earlier? I mean to take you with me."

"I have nothing that you could possibly want."

"Maybe, maybe not," Scabior shrugged, "Perhaps I just was some _company_." At that, the group of men laughed again at the clear implication. Caroline groaned in frustration.

"Please," she begged. "Please, my uncle is _very_ sick. Do not take me from him when he might not have much longer."

"Beautiful, you and I both know that that is a lie, so stop with the act," the tall man told her, smirking when she took a sharp intake of breath. "You're going with me and my group, and that's final."

"But-"

"Ah ah ah," he scolded, placing his dirty fingertips over her lips. "I told you, no more arguing. Or I might just let old Fenrir here decide what to do with you. And lemme tell you, I'm far more considered than he is. Trust me, he's a real…_beast_." A few men snickered and Caroline instantly had a feeling that there was some sort of deeper meaning to that. Caroline decided then and there that she didn't want to know.

A rumble of laughter vibrated against her back, confirming her suspicions.

"So the choice is yours, Caroline," Scabior started again. "You can come without any struggle and I'll treat you as decently as I see fit, or I can just give you over to Fenrir and the other men now. What's it gonna be?"

"I'll go with you," she mumbled, though she wasn't sure if Scabior's "decent" treatment would be any better than the others'. Scabior smiled, satisfied.

"Good choice, pet. Fenrir, let her go."

With a cry, Caroline stumbled forward as the force that was keeping her up suddenly let go. Her foot, which she was sure was broken, protested loudly and her arms automatically reached out to grab hold of something. Luckily, or not so luckily, Scabior was there to catch her. Glaring, Caroline reluctantly allowed him to pull her up as she tried to keep the pressure off of her right foot.

"Well, you're awfully anxious, aren't you?" Caroline ignored him but he didn't seem to care. "Everyone, back to the camp."

"Wait!" she suddenly shouted, remembering something. "My bag! Let me take my bag!"

"And why would I let you do something like that?"

"Please," she begged. "It doesn't have any weapons or anything, if that's what you're worried about. There are some extra clothes in there. If you plan on keeping me for a while, at least let me have something clean to wear." Caroline conveniently left out the part about her cell phone being in there as well and with every fiber of her being, she prayed that he would give her her backpack without searching it.

Scabior eyed her, making it obvious that he really didn't care about her having clean clothes, but he humored her anyways. He yelled for someone to find it, and once one of the men was holding it in his hands, he told everyone it was time to leave.

Caroline braced herself for the pain that was sure to come when the group began walking, but no one took a single step. Confused, she looked around her and was surprised to find that a few of the men had already left, without a sound. But before she could questions Scabior about it, something she did not expect happened.

A loud 'POP" met her ears.

She felt the ground disappear from beneath her feet. It felt as if there were a thousand different forces pulling her in every single direction and nausea hit her unexpectedly as spinning was added to the mix. But as soon as it had started, it stopped. Her feet hit the ground roughly, and had it not been for Scabior, she would have fallen at the sudden impact.

She opened her eyes, though Caroline didn't remember closing them. But as soon as she did, she wished she hadn't.

They were no longer on the road, but buried deep in the forest. So deep, that not even the moon offered much light. Her eyes slowly adjusted with the help of a few lanterns that were hanging from a few trees. Caroline took in a few tents that were thrown up carelessly wherever there was enough space between two trees.

Caroline's brain went haywire. How could they have moved so fast? What was the spinning motion that had so quickly gone straight to her stomach, but disappeared just as soon as it had started? What…

Magic.

That was the only explanation she could think of. And as crazy as it sounded, it made sense.

Caroline pushed herself away from Scabior and he let go easily. She braced herself against a tree and allowed her brain to function the information. She slowly looked up at the man in front of her, his amused eyes mocking her confusion. She lost it.

Scabior merely observed her, waiting for a scream to hit the air, or for her to let loose the contents of her stomach. However, in his mind, she did one better.

She fainted.

And being the sadistic bastard that he was, he made no move to catch her.

* * *

A/N. Well, that's chapter 4! We're beginning to get to the good stuff. I already have a lot of the story planned out (not the specifics, though) and I hope you'll all find it interesting. I'm glad that you all find it so different from every other Scabior/OC story you've ready because that was my intention. Things might change from how they happened in the book, but trust me, it will work.

I want to thank all of those who have reviewed the story. I take all the feedback to heart and it really helps. So please, if you're reading this, please review and tell me what you think!

The title of the song is "Dance with the Devil" by Breaking Benjamin.


	5. Snow White Queen

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 5: Snow White Queen**

**

* * *

**Caroline awoke with a throbbing headache.

Groaning, she pressed her hand to her head and rolled over, trying to block the sunlight that was already shining through her closed lids. She could hear muffled voices, but that was normal on a Sunday morning. She supposed that the Masons, who lived next door, were loading their five children into their ugly, old minivan, attempting to get to church on time. She lay there for a few minutes, stretching out her body and trying to relieve her body of the knots that had formed while she had been sleeping.

With a sigh, Caroline realized that there was no way she would be able to get back to sleep, and rolled over again, and reached out for her alarm clock to find out exactly how early it was. Her hand collided with nothing but open air.

Caroling shot up in the bed, eyes widening as she took in her surroundings. She was not in her bedroom, and the voices outside were _definitely _not her neighbors, but those of the men who had terrorized her the night before.

It hadn't been a dream.

Swallowing a scream, she quickly ripped the blankets off of her, and she sagged in relief when she realized her pants were still on and appeared to have not been taken off. She sighed, thankful that she could put one fear to rest.

"Well, it seems that Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken." Caroline gasped as her eyes flews to her left, and watched as Scabior stepped into the…tent? "We didn't ravish you last night, if that's what you're wondering. Though the thought certainly crossed my mind more than once." He shot her a grin at her horrified look.

"You know, I'm beginning to believe that you only have two facial expressions," Scabior continued. "One of which is terror, and the other rage. It's rather amusing."

"You're not funny," she glowered, but then quickly let the scowl fall from her face, not wanting to prove his point. She lifted her left hand to brush the hair out of her hand, but quickly froze when she realized that, while bandaged, it didn't hurt. She stared at it for a few seconds, wiggling her finger as much as she could in the bandage, before lifting her eyes to meet Scabior's in confusion. "But…how…?"

"I healed it while you were sleeping. It took a while, but I think I did a fair job," he told her.

"Yes…but still, how? Broken fingers don't just…_heal_…over night."

"Oh, beautiful," he sighed, "When are you going to quit the act? It was amusing at first, but now it's getting old." She merely shook her head, frowning.

"I don't know what else I can tell you to make you believe me," she said quietly. "But fine, I'll play it your way." Scabior gave her a long look, as if he was trying to read her mind. He tilted his head slightly as a frown appeared on his lips for a split second before shifting into another grin.

"Well, lovely, best be getting' up now. We've already gotten to a slow start, but today we're relocating to another position in the forest," he stated, striding towards her and yanking her from the bed. He placed her on her feet. She swayed for a second before managing to regain balance. "We've found a new trail that we'll be following today and you're coming with us. Lucky you!"

It took a second to realize that her right foot, which should have been throbbing in pain, had only given her a slight twinge. Mouth agape, she looked down at it.

"You didn't honestly expect me to leave your foot the way it was, did you?" Scabior chided. He clucked his tongue while he shook his head, as if he was disappointed in her. "We're going to moving quite a bit today, and none of us felt like having to carry you, or listen to your whiney voice all day. Though, if you like, I could always re-break it later."

"No!" Caroline immediately protested, cheeks turning red out her outburst. She silently berated herself for being embarrassed in the hands of this madman, but something about him was causing her to feel strange. She shook herself out of it.

"That's what I thought," he grinned, satisfied. "I have the quite a gift for healing, though the Dark Arts were always my forte. Funny how the two contradict each other, eh?" For a second, a haunted look crossed over his face, but it soon disappeared, leaving not a single trace. Frowning, Caroline merely nodded, deciding it best to agree with what he was saying. No use arguing when he clearly didn't believe her.

"Why would you help me though?" she questioned, suspicious of his motivations. Caroline tilted her head to the side, trying to read him, and becoming frustrated when she found that she couldn't.

"I already told you that I and the men wouldn't have enough patience to listen to your complaints. I wasn't helping _you,_ but rather my ears."

"Yes, but I thought you would enjoy my pain. It was quite entertaining to you last night," she added bitterly.

"Perhaps I'm not as bad of a bloke as you thought," Scabior replied, winking at her. Caroline snorted.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't really care what you believe, love," Scabior said, moving away from her, walking towards a chair in the corner. He picked up her bag and threw it at her. Caroline caught it inches away from her face. Seeing as she had just woken up, her reflexes hadn't quite stepped in yet.

"Just as long as you remember who's in charge," he finalized, a threat glaring through his eyes, though his face was relatively neutral. And without so much as another word on the matter, he turned on his heal and walked out of the tent, leaving her to herself.

He had only been gone for a few seconds when Caroline hastily opened up her bag. He had gone through it, that much was sure, but everything was still there. Including her cell phone and iPod.

What kind of kidnapper left her something she could use to help her escape? She snorted out loud to herself. _A _magical _one, of course_, the voice in her head mocked. Someone who probably had no idea what a cell phone or iPod was, let alone their purpose.

She shoved the thought aside as she hurriedly pulled the cell phone out of her pack, a relieved grin on her face. Blood pounded in her ears as her heart sped up in excitement. However, when she went to turn it on, nothing happened. She attempted to activate it several more times, but got no positive results. Panicking, she turned it over and noticed that the battery was missing. Her heart sank and a dry sob racked her chest. So much for that.

The man _wasn't_ stupid after all.

Sighing in utter defeat, she pulled out a change of clothes and looked around her. The tent was very large, strangely enough, but Caroline was learning to stop trying to figure everything out. Because no matter how hard she tried, none of it would make any sense to her.

Spotting a small corner that was blocked off by a curtain, she moved over to it and realized that it was a make shift closet of some sort. There were a few shelves that held a few random trinkets, as well as what appeared to be some pants and shirts. She knew that was the best she could do at the moment, so she closed the curtain around her.

Caroline quickly ripped off her sweatshirt that was caked in mud from falling, before taking off her shirt and pants. She then pulled on a new pair of darker jeans, a pair of clean socks, and a long-sleeved yellow turtle-neck. Grimacing, she pulled the dirty sweatshirt back over her head, as it was the only sort of jacket she had, and then proceeded to ball up her dirty clothes in her arm, and stepped out from behind the curtain.

A figure at the entrance of the tent startled her and caused her to stumble over practically nothing.

The man, who appeared to be in his late thirties, simply looked at her, his eyes crinkling as he gave her a surprisingly friendly smile, though it noticeably lacked two teeth. His blonde hair was messy and his clothes were dirty, but he didn't seem to care. In his hand was a small plate and when he noticed her looking at it, he thrust it towards her.

"We had some extra bacon an' bread from this morning so I thought I'd bring it over to ya," he started. Caroline eyed him skeptically. "It not be poisoned, honest. See?" He ripped a piece of the bread off and threw it into his mouth, chewing loudly. Caroline's nose twitched in disgust when he failed to shut his mouth during this process.

"I'm not hungry," she lied, even as her stomach grumbled. She stuck her chin in the air, heading over to her backpack. She ignored the man as she stuffed her dirty clothes into the bag, trying not to focus on her empty stomach that was doing its best to persuade her to accept the food. She dug around noisily for her brush and once it was found, she immediately pulled her hair out of her ponytail and began brushing it, determined to be as difficult as possible.

"Don't be like tha' miss," he chided. "If we wanted to kill ya, you'd be dead already. Scabior would 'ave seen to tha'."

"He was certainly pretty close to it last night, wasn't he?" she asked haughtily. The man just laughed.

"Yeah, well, he's changed 'is mind, hasn't he?" he said. She turned around and watched the man place the plate on the chair. She looked at him warily, focusing on his every move, lest he decide to switch directions and try to attack her. "Seems to find you interestin', so I guess me and the men will be 'aving to put up with ya for a while. Might as well get used to it. Both of us."

Caroline said nothing.

The man's grin vanished as he sobered up.

"Listen, ya won't be finding any friends out there, so ya might try to let me 'elp ya. I mean ya no harm, I was simply following Scabior's orders last night, is all," the man said quietly. He sighed when she still said nothing. "Eat your food, miss. It's fine, swear it on me mother's grave." He walked back towards the entrance.

"What's your name?" Caroline called out before she could stop herself. The man's smile was back as he turned around.

"Leo, at your service." Caroline simply nodded in acknowledgement as he bowed slightly before turning back around and exiting the tent. Caroline eyed the food as she continued pulling the brush through her hair, hissing when it ripped through the tangles. Only once she was satisfied did she pull it back into a ponytail, knowing that it was probably still a greasy mess. At least her bangs were finally long enough to be held back without bobby pins so they wouldn't be falling into her face every two seconds.

Caroline looked at the plate once more, dead set against eating its contents, before her stomach protested loudly. With a sigh, she gave up and decided to risk it. Walking silently over, she carefully lifted a piece of bacon to her mouth before hesitantly biting off a piece. The bacon was cold and tough, but her stomach clearly didn't mind, eager to have some sort of substance. Hunger took over as she forgot the manners her mother had tried so hard to instill in her and she quickly swallowed the rest of the food, and soon enough, the plate was empty.

Holding the plate tightly in his hand, Caroline hesitantly poked her head out of the unusually large tent, and seeing that the "campsite" was virtually empty, she walked outside. She quickly spotted Leo a few feet to her right and she made her way towards him. He looked up when he saw her coming and reached for the plate automatically.

"Thank you," she mumbled, not looking him in the eye.

"You be welcome, miss. How was it?"

"Well, I haven't died yet, so that's a good thing. But it could be a slow acting poison." She was amazed when she found herself grinned slightly. Leo just shook his head, amused. He opened his mouth the say something, but his eyes focused on something behind her shoulder, and a second later, Scabior's voice called out her name.

She whipped her head around and watched as he strode towards her. Grimacing, she noticed that Fenrir was following close behind. Images of the pain he had inflicted on her last night filled her head and unconsciously she shuddered.

"Are you ready to leave?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she responded, glaring and crossing her hands over her chest. Scabior smirked, seeming to be pleased by her defiance.

"Good, we'll be off then," he stated authoritatively. He pulled something out of his jacket and Caroline eyes widened when she noticed it was a stick that was about twelve inches long. She watched as he waved it slightly and gasped in disbelief when the tent she had been accommodating suddenly disappeared. Caroline closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that they were simply playing tricks on her.

But when she re-opened them and found that the tent was still gone, she forced herself to go along with it.

Caroline turned her head after a minute, only to find that Scabior was once again observing her curiously. She met his gaze head on, refusing to look away from the mocking glint that quickly took over. A second later, he turned to Fenrir and whispered something in his ear, and the two began walking away.

"Are ya followin' 'em or not?" Caroline's head snapped to Leo who had appeared next to her.

"Am I supposed to?" she asked, confused.

"Well, I don' think Scabior was gonna just leave ya here," the man replied, looking at her oddly. "Else he would 'ave just killed ya instead of makin' sure ya got somethin' to eat." Caroline ignored that.

"We're going to walk?"

"How else are we s'possed to get there?"

"I thought that maybe we'd…fly? Or get there like how we got her last night," Caroline answered, eyes narrowing when he began laughing. Defensively, she snapped, "Well, your guys are warlocks, right?" He doubled after as the laughing increased exponentially.

"Oh, you're gonna make me cry," Leo wheezed, holding his side. Without even thinking about it, she placed her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Warlocks!" he gasped. "The lass called us warlocks!"

"They have magic, right? Or would you prefer me calling you a witch?" Caroline asked sarcastically. Leo straightened and looked at her.

"It's wizard, miss," he said, his voice hoarse from his laughter. "Men with magic are called wizards. Not…_warlocks_. You may be takin' this charade a bit far, but it's downright amusin'." And with that, Caroline watched as he collapsed into yet another fit of laughter. Her lips thinned as she spun on her heel and started walking in the direction that Scabior had gone off in. They hadn't gotten far so she was able to quickly catch up with him and what appeared to be the rest of his group. She scanned the group, taking in their appearances. There were about five total, including Scabior and Fenrir.

They all seemed to be the type of guys that Caroline would have never gone within twenty feet of, had she seem them somewhere else.

The three men she had not yet met were just as grimy and seedy looking as the rest. All wore dirty clothes that were in need of a heavy-duty washing machine and all had hair that could have done with a good cut. Curiously, with the exception of Scabior and one other who looked to be close to her own age, they all appeared to be in their late-thirties. Scabior himself looked to be like his twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight, and it made Caroline wonder why he was the one in charge of the group.

But as she watched him talking to the other men, it became clear that he had a natural talent for taking control and issuing threats. Though they were clearly on his own side, and not to mention ten years older, Scabior still made the other men cower back slightly under his gaze. Caroline was glad to know she wasn't the only he enjoyed mocking and stepping on.

Of course, it also helped that he was the largest of the group. Fenrir came very close to his general size, but after looking at his face for a few seconds, something made her wonder if the man was…_all there,_ mentally speaking. Sure, Fenrir looked downright evil and dangerous, like he could kill anything or anyone at any given second, and not care. But he definitely didn't look like he would be the brains of the group.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Fenrir suddenly looked in her direction and growled.

Yes, fucking _growled._

Startled, Caroline instantly took a step back, though she was a good twenty feet away from him. He leered at her for a second before turning his attention back to Scabior.

Her heart racing, Caroline once again began walking, following the group as she did her best not to stumble in the snow. Her feet were already soaked, and though it was daytime, the sun did nothing to heat the air surrounding her. Her fingers curled inside her sweatshirt, hiding from the cold, as her teeth began chattering.

However, a sudden burst of warmth hit her and she unwittingly let out a low moan, not even questioning where it had come from.

"If that was all I had to do to get that reaction out of you, I would have done that last night," Scabior's voice came from her right, effectively causing her to jump slightly. Her eyes narrowed distrustfully.

"What did you do to me?"

"Simple heating charm," he answered. "Five minutes in and the sound was already annoying me."

"Well, you could always let me go, and then there'd be nothing of me here to annoy you with," she suggested sarcastically. The man beside her let out a mock sigh, shaking his head slightly.

"I don't know how many times I have to say this," he began, wrapping his hand lightly around her upper arm. "But I mean to keep you, beautiful."

"Oh, really?" Caroline immediately questioned, hating when just a little twinge of fear snuck in. But she did her best to not let it show on her face, instead shooting him with what she hoped was a look of boredom. "For how long?"

"Oh, I haven't really decided yet," Scabior stated nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. "Maybe a few days, maybe a month. Maybe even forever. Depends on how long you keep me entertained."

"But you can't-"

"Says who?" Scabior suddenly whipped her body into his chest, his eyes glaring down at her. "The parents who clearly don't care for you? Your aunt, who is too busy tending to her _sick_ husband? Or are _you_ going to try and stop me? Because from what I remember from last night, your escape plan worked for about two seconds before we caught you again. Besides, even if you _do_ manage to get away from me, which highly unlikely seeing as how you refuse to do any magic, there are five more men that are more than prepared to go after you. Face it, beautiful. You're stuck with me. And I'm not letting you go. Ever."

Looking away from him, Caroline's eyes glittered with tears as he leaned down and spoke into her ears words that sucked all the warmth out of her blood.

"But, if for some reason I do, you won't be leaving me…_alive._"

* * *

**A/N: **Annnnnnd that's chapter 5! I know I took a few liberties with some of the magic (especially when it came to healing her hand and foot) but it fit with the story, as you'll see later. Anyways, if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I hope that Caroline still is a pretty well-rounded character, but if you don't think so, just drop a few suggestions on what I can do to change that.

As always, thank you for reading and please review!

The song for the title is "Snow White Queen" by Evanescence.


	6. Crawling in the Dark

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 6: Crawling in the Dark**

**

* * *

**_You won't be leaving me alive_**.**

The words rang through her head over and over again, causing her stomach to clench each and every time. Nothing Scabior and his men had done last night had managed to scare her more. The intensity behind the words made her believe that he meant every single syllable he had uttered. He didn't seem like the type to make threats. In fact, it hadn't even sounded like a threat. It had definitely been a _promise_.

_You won't be leaving me alive._

Caroline was terrified.

She was growing used to the feeling. And it was not pleasant. At all.

He was every bit as dangerous as he looked, and Caroline didn't want to think of what he could, and would, do to her if she tried to leave. He hadn't specifically threatened anything should she try to escape, but he didn't need to. He had succeeded in scaring her with just the glint that had entered his eyes as he told her he wasn't planning on letting her go. Ever.

_You won't be leaving me alive._

She shuddered at the thought.

This wasn't what she had imagined when she left her home in Colorado. Not even close. She had never known what to expect once she had reached England, but she found herself regretting her impulsive decision to leave. She had certainly learned her lesson by not thinking things through before doing something life-changing.

Because now, the decision wasn't just _life-changing._ It had become _life-ending._

_You won't be leaving me alive._

Caroline just wanted to fall asleep and wake up in her bedroom, even if it meant being back with her parents. And that was saying something, considering the fact that she practically hated, and was hated by, her parents.

Her parents had never treated her with any love, kindness, or respect. The only relationship between her and her parents had been like that of a tyrant and his people. They had dictated her every move from the start, telling her how to dress, what to say when spoken to (God forbid she ever start a conversation herself) and who could be her friends. It was like they didn't even see her as a person, but more like a dog.

Just an object that they could easily throw away and ignore when they got bored.

Many people within the community had always told Caroline how her parents were "good, quality people," but she had never had a chance to witness it for herself.

There had been no bedtime stories at night, no tears wiped off of her cheeks when she fell and scraped her knees, no birthday parties, no appearances at her choir concerts or student conferences, no pictures taken on the night of her senior prom…because she had had to sneak out to even go.

There had been nothing.

They hadn't even showed up for her high school graduation. Her 3.8 GPA hadn't been high enough for them to be proud of her.

Her parents were controlling, deceptive, and manipulative. They always hid everything from her, which was why Caroline had felt no guilt over taking advantage of her mother's inebriated state, anxious to get any information that she could in her limited amount of time.

In her mind, the only thing her parents were missing at the moment was their lack of a puppet to play around with.

Caroline had never been allowed to play with the neighborhood kids, or go out on dates, have her own car (thus controlling where she was allowed, and not allowed, to go), or even pick out her electives in high school. She had never been allowed to make a decision for herself, at least where her parents, and her own life, for that matter, were concerned.

She partly blamed her parents for the situation she was in now.

Okay, more than _partly_.

Though it was her decision to go, if her parents had taught her from an early age how to make logical choices for oneself, she might have been more prepared for her own life.

Her brother had been the only one to recognize that she was her own person, capable of choosing for herself. He had realized her worth as a person, even when she hadn't, and had never stopped encouraging her to go for her dreams, even when he knew their parents would fight her every step of the way.

Her stomach clenched at the thought of Zachary. Even now, three years later, the pain was still too raw.

Caroline hissed when her foot caught on a large, protruding branch. For once, she was glad to be pulled out of her mind and back to reality. She shook herself out of it and focused ahead of her. She was determined to stop thinking of the past and all that hid there.

Her parents weren't the only thing she was trying to escape from.

And now this nightmare that she had landed herself in was something else she needed to plan an exit strategy for.

The morning stretched into early afternoon as she trekked on, though she couldn't have told you how many hours exactly had gone by. Everything had passed by in a blur, but that wasn't surprising considering the fact that she was in the middle of a huge forest where everywhere she turned her head, everything looked identical. A tree here, a tree there, another tree five feet ahead of her… With any luck, they were walking around in circles.

But somehow she doubted that.

Scabior had long since rejoined the men at the front of the group, but that didn't stop her from flinching every time she thought of him. Her parents might have controlled her and abused her, but they had never scared her as much as that man did.

They had never held so much power over her with just one look as he did.

Caroline let her mind go blank, determined to not think of either the past or the horrid possibilities of her future. It amazed her how easy it was for her to simply turn off the inner monologue in her head. She supposed it was a trait she had developed after so many years of dealing with her parents. Instead, she focused on the back of the man ten feet in front of her and carefully avoided all roots. However, as much as she tried to ignore her surroundings, a sharp burning in her lower abdomen caught her attention.

Caroline froze, knowing what it meant. She tried to keep walking, but the pain grew until it was all she could focus on and she began to panic.

"What's wrong, miss?" Leo was suddenly at her side, and eyes wide, she turned to him. She shook her head, no words coming out: she knew there was no way for her to tell him what was wrong without losing the rest of her dignity. However, when she began hopping around from one foot to the other out of near necessity, his mouth formed a silent "Oh," before smiling slightly. Caroline immediately frowned, not liking the look on his face.

_Could this day get any worse?_

"What seems to be the hold up?"

_Yes_, Caroline thought bitterly to herself, _why yes it could._ Caroline stopped her hopping as Scabior approached them.

A groan rumbled in the back of her throat.

"Caroline has somethin' she has to do," Leo said. Caroline thanked him in her head for attempting to be vague as she noticed that the rest of the men were only about twenty feet away, clearly listening in.

She shot them a quick glare, but it didn't seem to have the affect she had been aiming for.

"Oh, is that so?" Scabior asked archly, raising an eyebrow. "And what could be so important that you felt the need to stop the entire group?" Caroline quickly muttered under her breath. "What was that, my lovely?"

"I have to pee," she whispered quietly, her dignity taking a large slap in the face. But when he threw back his head in laughter, she knew he had heard clear enough. Caroline glared at him.

"Well, is that all?" Scabior asked, quieting. "Well, there's a good, thick tree a couple of meters over there. Don't worry, we'll wait for you." Caroline looked at him, appalled.

"Are you kidding me? You expect me to go with all of you standing right here?"

"You're lucky I even offered the tree in the first place," he responded as if it were a normal conversation. Caroline shook her head in disbelief. Her mouth opened and closed several times, no sound coming out before she gained control over herself.

"Scabior, please," she pleaded, hating that he had forced her to reduce to begging. "Leo can stand here while the rest of you go on. I'm not going to try and run away, I promise. I just want a little of privacy. Can't you give me at least that?" Scabior studied her for a few moments before nodding slowly.

"You boys go off without me, I'll catch up soon!" he shouted back at the men. There was a loud outcry and Caroline looked at them in disdain. Their disappointment was obvious, and it disgusted her. "Leo, you can go, too. I'll stay with her."

"But-" Caroline began to protest before he cut her off.

"Take it or leave it."

"Fine," she supposed that she had just become the stereotypical woman by uttering that word and in fact meaning the exact opposite, but she didn't care. Instead, she began to walk over to the tree he had pointed out earlier, but froze when she realized something. Her hands clenched angrily at her sides and her teeth gritted.

"You can use this, beautiful. It's the best I can offer, though," Scabior spoke from behind her, holding a white hankie. Mortifyingly enough, he had understood why she had paused so suddenly. A scowl on her face, she walked back over to him, snatched the hankie from his hand, and stalked over to the tree, his laughter following her. She looked down, grimacing at the hankie, not wanting to think of where it had been.

When she was done, she walked past Scabior without looking at him, hoping with all her heart that he wouldn't bring it up.

He didn't. Thank God.

But he did wink.

"Fuck you," she muttered under her breath. His grin widened, speeding up to reach the head of the group.

Caroline rolled her eyes. The guy seriously needed to get on some medication for his severe, and quite frankly, _bizarre_, mood swings.

Before she knew it, the sun was setting. Her legs were throbbing, and she knew she was going to be extremely sore tomorrow. The group had travelled the entire day, only stopping for a half hour to have some dry, old bread, before resuming their journey. The men had left her alone for the most part, but she had noticed a few leers directed at her every once and while. Caroline tried to not let them bother her, but she didn't succeed. Every single leer had suggested exactly what they wanted to do with her, and she knew she would be defenseless to stop them if they tried.

It wasn't exactly the way she had planned to lose her virginity.

Scabior had only joined her for a few minutes after they had had a quick break, but Caroline had steadfastly ignored him. He had tried to draw her into a light conversation, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. But he quickly realized that she wasn't going to converse with him, and had, surprisingly enough, given up and left her alone the rest of the day.

Until it was time for bed.

Once his tent had been set up, with a mere flick of his _wand_, she was still finding it hard to wrap her mind around the possibility of magic, Caroline had quickly gone inside without a word. She hadn't expected him to follow. She turned around and placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed in anger and suspicion.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded. Scabior simply raised his eyebrow.

"Last I checked, it was _my_ tent," he responded. "I believe I have a right to be in here. Especially because I've been nice enough to let you stay in here."

"Yes, but I just thought that-"

"You can think?" Caroline glared at him, effectively being shut up. "Sorry, beautiful, but you have to admit that your actions haven't been very smart. If you had had any lick of common sense in that pretty little head of yours, you might have avoided this mess altogether."

The fight she was itching for suddenly drained from her system.

Caroline lowered her eyes and hugged herself around the middle. He was right. But there was no way in hell that she was admitting it to him. She turned her head to the side, still avoiding looking at him, and sighed, struggling to hold in the tears that were already threatening to fall.

She cursed her weakness and lack of self-control.

And her eyes for being damn traitors.

"You know," Scabior began again. "I could smell you the second you entered the forest. I could smell the fragrance of your skin." He walked over and stood directly in front of her. She didn't back up, knowing he would follow her. Instead, she stood still as a statue, her only movements that of her rising chest as she took in an unsteady breath.

Caroline refused to look at him. Without warning, he reached out, and she felt him tug lightly on her ponytail, forcing her eyes to meet his. Scabior wrapped a few tendrils around his fingers and Caroline flinched. "I could smell the shampoo you used to wash your hair. And if that wasn't enough, the crunch of the snow beneath your feet, and the chattering of your teeth gave you away. You never would have escaped me." Caroline's face paled when he took yet another step closer until his chest was brushing up against hers. He suddenly he released her hair, only to run a cold hand down her cheek. "I have a gift for tracking people, especially when they don't want to be found. It's why we _warlocks," _he shot her an amused grin, "walked today, instead of apparating. I like doing things the old fashioned way. It makes the satisfaction of finding your prey even greater."

And in this situation, she was most certainly the prey.

_You won't be leaving me alive._

Caroline's hands immediately shot out to push against his chest, but it was no use. He wouldn't budge. With a strangled cry, she shakily backed up until her knees hit the bed behind her, determined to get as far away from him as possible in the tent. She waited for him to make a move towards her. But he didn't. Instead, Scabior gave her a knowing smirk and left without saying a word.

It seemed to be favorite action of his.

Gasping for breath, Caroline collapsed on to the bed, her heart pounding in her ears. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest as tearless sobs escaped from her mouth. She was quickly getting sick of this tightness in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could as she tried to forget the feeling of his hand on her cheek, or the way his chest had brushed against her breasts. She could only imagine what he had been thinking when he had pressed against her.

She didn't want to know.

He could hurt her all he wanted. Break her hands and feet again, slap her, punch her… But nothing would compare to the way she would feel if her ever forced himself upon her. It would break her.

Nothing would ever crush her will more than being raped would.

However, she was beginning to realize that it was probably more a matter of _when_ rather than _if._ The thought petrified her, and sent her into another wave of sobs, this time accompanied by hot tears that poured down her cheeks.

_You won't be leaving me alive._

Minutes passed as she cried and cried, wishing more than anything that she had never heard of her Aunt Athena. She wished she had simply finished saving enough money, and courage, to move out on her own, instead of leaving in the dead of night on an impulse. It was something that would haunt her the rest of her life.

_Which might not even be more than a few days,_ she thought to herself brokenly.

The tears continued to leak from her eyes, though they had slowed. Soft hiccups left her mouth and her grip around her body loosened. Exhausted, sore, and the terror she had experienced from the past twenty-four hours finally caught up with her as she eventually cried herself to sleep. Before long, her breathing had steadied, and her cheeks had dried, and the only evidence of her distress were the crescent shaped cuts on the palms of her hands where her fingernails had bit into them.

The words that had been echoing in her mind all day fell from her lips in a deep, shuddering sigh.

As she slumbered, she never knew that Scabior was still standing right outside the tent, as he had been for the past twenty minutes, listening to her soft cries. The cigarette glowed between his lips as he took a long drag before throwing it to the ground angrily and putting it out with his foot. With a scowl on his face, he stalked towards the other men in his group, determined to put the girl, and her tears that he had caused, out of his mind.

It was going to prove harder than he had originally thought.

* * *

A/N: That was chapter six for all of you! I hope you enjoyed it (I certainly enjoyed writing it) and I hope that you'll continue reading it. I'm trying to update every week (usually around Tuesday or Wednesday) so keep any eye out for chapter 7! It's already been written, as well as most of chapter 8, but there are still some fine-tuning adjustments that must be made. So, if you have any ideas, please let me know and maybe I'll incorporate it into the story. I hope I have kept the intrigue up and, as always, have kept Caroline as un-mary-sue-ish as possible, as well as kept the other characters as close to JK's version as possible (though there might be a few differences here and there.) I reveiled a little bit of Caroline's past (though not specifics) and I hope it didn't come off as too angsty, but in a way, it explains why she's done the things she's done. I'll start talking more about her life, as well as Scabior's, soon. But, if you have any questions that need to be answered RIGHT NOW, just review haha. Though I don't make any promises... :)

As always, thank you for reading and see you next week!

The song for the title is Hoobastank's "Crawling in the Dark."


	7. Blanket of Fear

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 7: Blanket of Fear**

**

* * *

**Caroline awoke with a start. _Again_.

She hoped that it wasn't becoming a habit.

Her heart racing and her fingers trembling, she looked around her wildly, her eyes searching for something, anything, in the darkness. For a second, she didn't realize what had caused her to leave her dream state, but then she heard the noise again.

Shouts of laughter. Glee. Excitement.

Springing out of the bed, she rushed to the entrance of the tent and peered outside, taking only a split second to notice that it was still dark, signifying that it was probably early in the morning. She took a small, tentative step out of the tent opening, and with the help of a few lanterns hanging around the campsite, was just in time to see five figures disappear in a cloud of black smoke. A loud 'POP' accompanied the disappearances a split second later, letting her know that the figures were leaving the same way she had travelled when she had first been kidnapped.

For a second, it shocked her. She briefly wondered where they were going so late at night, a frown of bewilderment on her sleep-weary face. However, after a moment's worth of confusion, giddiness surged through her veins and she was suddenly very much awake.

This was it, this was here chance.

She was free.

Hopefully for _real_ this time.

Stepping back into the tent, she grabbed her backpack before rushing back out. She didn't care that she had forgotten to put her shoes on, that her dark hair was in wild disarray, that her muscles were sore from all the walking from the previous day ,that she didn't have any idea where she was going or how to get out of the forest…but nothing was going to stop her from leaving.

Not if she could help it.

She had barely gone ten feet when a voice called out to her. Caroline ignored it and kept running, her feet sinking into the snow with every step. She got in another few feet only to hear another shout before the feeling of invisible ropes tying around her body took over. Caroline crashed to the ground with a loud cry, unable to use her arms to brace herself as her momentum caused her to slide on the ground a little further. She managed to turn and land on her side instead of her face, but that didn't stop the pain. She knew, without a doubt, that she was going to have some major bruises later.

But none of that compared to the sinking feeling of having been caught.

She struggled against the invisible binds, panicking when nothing seemed to work. Her frantic movements got her absolutely nowhere and only further fueled her panic. She heard footsteps approaching and she automatically tensed up in fear, her dark eyes struggling to take in everything around her, waiting for the person to show themselves. A foot landed on her left side, pushing to roll her over on to her back and Caroline found herself staring up at Leo's face.

Her only thought was that she was glad that it hadn't been Scabior who had found her. And that she should have suspected that someone else was still at the camp, seeing as how she had only seen _five_ figures in the dark, not _six._

But once again, her streak of impulsiveness had surfaced when the idea of freedom had sprung in her head, leaving no room for logical thought.

It was a typical Caroline move, amongst many others that had led her to trouble several times.

"Where do ya think you're goin', miss?" he questioned, peering down at her with a look of curiosity on his prematurely wrinkled face. Her eyes nervously darted back and forth between his eyes and the wand in his hand.

"I-I-I…"Caroline couldn't seem to form any words. She was still too stunned to be able to, and it felt as if her tongue was frozen to the roof of her mouth in its own version of horror. Not to mention the crushing feeling of not being able to get away was weighing heavily down on her.

She was surprised her ribs weren't cracking from the pressure.

"You weren't tryin' to escape, now were ya?" Mutely, Caroline shook her head, refusing to cry. Her lips trembled, however, giving away her dishonesty. Leo sighed, and with the flick of his wand, the invisible ropes that had been holding her tightly together loosened. Caroline immediately sat up, looking around her, cringing when the right side of her body stiffened in pain. Leo bent down, and offered her a hand.

Caroline stared at the hand, not wanting to accept his help. But, rational thought took over and hesitantly, she took it. Leo pulled her up gently, brushing off the dirt and snow that was still clinging to her sweatshirt and jeans. Caroline looked at her surroundings miserably, realizing she had likely lost her only chance at escaping.

Taking one look at her dirt-smudged face, Leo took pity on her and led over to the fire she had failed to notice earlier. He sat her gently down on the log before sitting across from her. An awkward silence filled the air.

"I'm sorry, miss," Leo said after a few moments. "If I had let ya go, Scabior would have taken me 'ead in replacement." Caroline shrugged, frowning, not really accepting his apology, and avoiding eye contact. All she knew was that he had stopped her from her possible freedom, and she hated him for it. No matter his excuses. "It's not me choice for ya to be here. Our work ain't suitable for a young lady like yerself."

"Why do you guys want me?" she questioned immediately, jumping on the subject. "Why am I being held hostage when I have done nothing wrong? And don't you dare give me that bullshit answer about Scabior wanting me for entertainment. There's more to it than that."

"Miss, I'm afraid that's really all there is to it," Leo replied, lowering his eyes. "You've intrigued him, ya see. I've never seen anyone spike 'is curiosity quite like you 'ave."

"But why?" Caroline was shaking her head in bewilderment. She was desperate for answers. Any answers. She couldn't, for the life of her, fathom why he would be so interested in her. She knew that she aggravated him greatly, so why would he risk his sanity to keep her?

Not to mention the fact that he was causing her to questions _hers_.

After what she had seen in the past twenty-four hours, she wouldn't be surprised if she woke up in a mental hospital with some crazed notion that magic really existed.

"Honestly, I don't know. Yer refusal to give 'im the information he was after, even while threatening ya, caught 'is interest. I suppose to 'im, you're a puzzle he wants to solve."

"Trust me, I'm not interesting at all. I'm simple, plain. Nothing fascinating here," Caroline said bitterly. The image of her parents mocking her for her so-called "mediocrity" flashed in her head before she quickly banished it from her thoughts. Her eyes met his, defiance shining through them. "And I don't understand why you guys are in the forest anyways. What are you hunting, exactly?

"We're Snatchers."

"What?"

"Snatchers," he repeated, raising his eyebrows. Caroline just stared at him, confused.

"What does that mean?" Leo shook his head in disbelief, his mouth agape.

"You've never 'eard of Snatchers?"

"Should I have?" A look of realization crossed his face. His mouth closed as he stared at her.

"Well…maybe not. Ya _are_ American after all," he stated, appearing to be in deep thought. His fingers uncharacteristically rubbed his chin. "Maybe ya have a differen' term for it."

"Term for _what_?" she nearly exploded. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, trying to keep her exasperation under control.

"For the capturin' of muggle-borns and blood traitors, of course. Though you have nothin' to worry about, I s'pose. You were headin' to Godric's Hollow, after all, and typically all the wizards and witches who live there be at _least_ half-bloods."

Caroline's mind was reeling. What the _hell_ was he talking about? None of what he was saying was making any sense to her and if anything, it just left her even more confused than when she had begun questioning him.

"Capturing muggle-borns? What are those? And why are you capturing them?" Caroline demanded, shaking as she stood up on to her feet. She barely noticed his eyes widening. "God dammit, give me some answers. I have no idea what you're talking about!" Caroline suddenly quieted when this time, the look of horror crossed _his_ face.

"Ya really don' have a clue, do ya?" he asked, puzzling her with his quiet tone. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and his eyes dropped to the fire. Caroline threw her hands up into the air in frustration.

"Of _course_ I don't!" she very nearly exploded, not caring that she was disturbing the quite of the forest. Fire flashed in her eyes and she shook in rage. "Would I be standing here, acting a like a raving lunatic if I _did?_ I just want you to let me go! Whatever it is you guys are doing, I won't tell anyone. Please, _please…_just let me leave. Scabior's not here and-"

"I can't, miss."

"But why not!"

"Scabior…he would…he…I just can't, miss. Please don't ask me anymore." Leo lowered his gaze, as if he was almost ashamed. With a sigh that bordered on hysteria, Caroline sank down to the ground, burying her face in her hands. Hot tears spilled on to her palms for what felt like the thousandth time in three days, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything. Other than her failed attempt to escape and what it meant, of course.

With a deep shuddering breath, she pulled her face away from her hands and hastily wiped the wetness from her cheeks. Her eyes met Leo's from across the fire, and with a burst of strength, she stared at him, head on.

"Tell me. Everything. _Now."_

"What do you want to know?"

"You believe me, don't you? That I don't know how to use magic?"

Leo sighed loudly and his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Yes, miss. I do."

"That makes me..a..mu-what's the word again?"

"A muggle."

"Yes," Caroline answered, rolling her eyes at the slight hint of distaste that his tone implied. "_That_. I have no magical abilities. I'm just a normal human girl with a boring life and I have no idea _how_ I got involved in this mess. So I want you to tell me everything, and I mean _everything_, from the beginning. Right now."

Leo sighed again, shifting unnervingly. Caroline caught his hesitation with her shrewd eyes.

"No," she hissed, anger coursing through her veins that were very nearly frozen from the chilly night. "You don't get to say no. You and your friends captured _me,_ hurt _me,_ and terrified _me_. _You_ do not get to say no! I want my questions answered. You owe me that, Leo."

"Fine," he grumbled at last, clearly uncomfortable. "Might as well get comfortable, miss. It's a long story."

"How long?"

"Very long. This war, or at least the ideas behind it-"

"_War?_" Caroline immediately questioned incredulously.

"Yes, _war_. Blimey, did ya think we were out her chasin' rabbits?" he shot back, exasperated.

"No," Caroline admitted, dark eyes meeting his, "but I didn't think…I didn't…"

"No, I suppose ya wouldn't. Now, as I was sayin', we be in the middle of a war, one that has been brewin' for centuries now. I won' be able to tell ya everything because there's so much, but I'll do me best." Leo took a deep breath, and Caroline subconsciously leaned forward on to her elbows, as if it would help her to hear better. Leo shook his head slightly before beginning his story

"Basically, there be different kinds of magic folk. Those who are descended from other magic folk, and those who are not. And-"

"Muggle-borns," Caroline interrupted loudly, eyes widening in realization. The anger that she had momentarily forgotten reappeared. "You guys are hunting people! You're hunting people simply because-"

"There is no 'simply', miss," Leo argued, annoyed. "There be a lot more to it than ya think. And if ya want to hear why, ya best listen, because I won' be repeating meself." Caroline opened her mouth to protest, but Leo shook his head in a warning. Caroline nodded, chastised, and waited for Leo to continue.

"Anyways, some time ago, some witches and wizards who had had magic in their bloodlines for ages started to look down on those who didn'. They labeled themselves as _Purebloods_. It became their belief that they were better than Muggle-borns and that they didn' deserve their magical abilities. However, not every Pureblood believed this way, ya see, and thus, a sort of feud started.

"A good twenty years ago, perhaps more, a man rose up to lead 'is fellow Purebloods into annihilating the Muggle-born population. His name… is Voldemort."

"What kind of name is Vold-"

"DON'T SAY IT!" Leo suddenly roared, frightening Caroline to point to where she jumped a few inches into the air. Shaking, and suddenly angry, she glared at him.

"_You_ just did! Why can't I? What's so bad about saying a name?" she demanded fiercely. Her breaths were exiting her body in shallow gasps as she tried to slow down her racing heart.

"Because," he very nearly growled. "Only those who be recognized as 'is followers are allowed to say it. The name be cursed, ya see. Anyone who's not on 'is side and is stupid enough to say it can immediately be tracked…and that's where we Snatchers come in."

"Do people know it's cursed?"

"No, they don't," he sighed, and Caroline was surprised to see that he almost seemed to look guilty. "It's a sort of trap. People wouldn' be sayin' it if they knew, now would they?" Caroline shook her head no. "When some bloke says it, the Snatchers are almost instantly alerted to their location and they people are…snatched."

"Is that where Scabior and the others disappeared to?" Caroline asked abruptly, comprehension surging through her head. Horror filled her, but this time not for herself. "They were going off the catch someone?"

"Yes." Caroline's gut twisted at his one-worded response.

"But they seemed so…_happy_." She didn't bother to hide the disgust in her voice.

"They haven't seen much action in the las' few days, miss. Except for you, o' course," Leo stated. Caroline shook her head, disbelievingly. She prayed that her ears were deceiving her. "And your case didn' turn out the way they would 'ave wanted. The men 'ave been waitin' for Scabior to turn you over to 'em, but he hasn't. They be rather disappointed."

"But still-"

"No 'buts', miss," Leo interrupted. "They be Snatchers, it's wha' they do. They're paid to catch people for interrogatin'. To them, it's a job."

"It's revolting," Caroline sneered. She looked at him, sickened. "To be so happy to capture someone and…and…and _torture _them. It makes me _sick_."

"As I'm sure ya have noticed, they aren't exactly the most brilliant people around, nor do they give a rat's ass who they 'urt," Leo said, surprisingly gentle. "They've been raised with hatred for those who be diff'rent."

"Then why do _you_ do it?" Caroline's voice was just as soft. "You're different than the rest. I can't see you purposefully hurting anyone and not feeling guilt over it. Why, just this morning you-"

"I'm not a good person, miss," Leo cut her off, eyes abruptly becoming hard. "Just 'cuz I feel remorse over them don't make me a good man. I've done bad things, and I'll do 'em again."

"But you don't have to," Caroline asserted. "Can't you just-"

"No, I can't," he barked suddenly. "I do this cuz I 'ave to."

"But why?" Caroline refused to give up. "How can you live with yourself?"

"I do what I 'ave to," he repeated.

"But I don't understand-"

"You don' 'ave to."

"Then why are you even talking to me? Why are you being _nice_ to me?" she demanded. "I'm a _muggle_. Everything you're supposed to hate. Why take the time to tell me this if you obviously just want me dead?" Leo didn't say anything.

"Please," she whispered. "You're not like them. Why are you doing this to people who have never done _anything_ to you, simply because they haven't a different history than you?" Leo looked like he wanted to snap at her again, but suddenly his anger seemed to drain right out of him.

"I'm afraid that be another story fer another time," he said quietly, avoiding eye contact, clearly not wanting to talk about it. Caroline sighed, defeated. She stared at the fire for a few minutes, flame reflecting her eyes, as silence drifted between them. She looked over at Leo who was staring at the ground, a look of sadness on his face. Taking a deep breath, Caroline opened her mouth to voice the question that had been on her mind since he had first brought up the topic of the Snatchers.

"Leo," she began softly. "What does Scabior do with the people when he's done with them?" Caroline looked at him with a frown on her face, afraid of the answer.

"He kills 'em." Caroline gulped loudly.

"But why didn't he kill _me_?" Leo sighed.

"Honestly, miss-"

But before he could answer her, several loud 'POPS' filled the air. Startled, Caroline looked to her left as the remained Snatchers appeared. The men all wore grins on their faces, obviously pleased with the results of their hunt. But it was Scabior who caught her eye.

He was standing in the front of the rest of the group, dark hair falling out of the ties that had bound it back, looking as if he had run his fingers through it several times in frustration. His eyes were a paralyzing ice blue as his gaze met hers, and the grim look on his face darkened as he took a step towards her. However, it wasn't his demeanor that caused her to stare.

No.

It was the fact that he was covered in blood.

* * *

A/N: That's chapter 7 for you. Yes, yes, I _know_, another cliffy. But I've got to keep your interest somehow, eh? Anyways, I appreciate all the reviews you guys have left me and the ones for this chapter as well. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please tell me what you think. Whether you like it, what you didn't like, any inconsistencies you've found, and all that jazz!

See you next time!

-courtneylove15.

The song for this chapter's title is "Blanket of Fear" but Papa Roach.


	8. Keeping the Blade

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 8: Keeping the Blade**

**

* * *

**"What is she doing up?" Scabior's voice demanded, bringing Caroline out of her stupor. He was only five feet away from her now, but she was grateful when she noticed that he was looking at Leo, and not at her. She watched as Leo stood up, brushing the dirt off of his pants.

"She woke up when you all left," he answered gruffly. "No wonder, being as loud as ya were."

"And you didn't send her back to bed?" From her spot on the opposite side of the fire, she watched his eyebrows arch, as he always did when he was irritated. Leo opened his mouth to answer but Caroline stopped him as she spoke instead.

"I couldn't sleep," she mumbled, slightly annoyed that he was talking about her as if she weren't there. His ice blue eyes met hers as he swung around and Caroline froze as she stared at the blood that was still smeared all over him.

"Oh?" he sneered. "Did you need a bedtime story, princess?" Caroline's eyes narrowed at his mocking tone. "Perhaps a goodnight kiss?"

Caroline simply glared, no witty retort coming to mind. Scabior rolled his eyes at her less-than-interesting response as he turned around to face Leo once more. "I don't want her out of the tent when I'm not around, you hear me? She's to stay inside at all times." Leo nodded as his eyes flickered to hers in a silent apology before focusing back on Scabior.

"Yes, sir," he sighed, defeated. Scabior nodded in response. Abruptly he spun on his heal to face Caroline who still sat on the log in front of the fire. She shrunk back automatically, chin raised as she stared up at him. Her dark eyes took in his stormy face as his lips pulled back over his teeth.

"And _you_," he snarled, "are not to do anything without my permission. You are, most especially, not permitted to walk outside unless I say so. Do you understand me?" Caroline stood up, hands on her hips as her lip curled. Anger rushed through her at his proclamation.

"You don't own me," she spat out. The sound of Scabior's mocking laughter filled the night air.

"Oh, but I do, beautiful," he sauntered towards her, his breath fanning out on her face as he leaned down towards her. "You'll have to get used to it. I control who you talk to, what you eat, when you are allowed to talk-"

Scabior's speech came to an immediate halt when Caroline reared back and spat in his face. His words had reminded her too much of that of her parents' and she wasn't going to stand for it. However, when a thunderous expression marred his face, Caroline knew she shouldn't have acted so thoughtlessly.

Why couldn't she learn to keep her mouth shut? Her lips had no filter, and did not keep the words and _spit_ from coming out unexpectedly.

She felt the sting on her left cheek before she heard the crack. Caroline's hand reached out to touch the part of her face where he had slapped her, but a hand around her throat stopped her.

"You need to learn your place," Scabior seethed, his face inches form hers. Caroline's fingernails clawed at his arms as her feet dangled off the ground. The longer he held her, the deeper shade of blue her face became. "I will not indulge your fits of anger, and if you give me cause, I will not hesitate to kill you, no matter how amusing I find you. Now you will go back into the tent and go back to sleep. And if I hear so much as _peep_ from you, you will find yourself in a much worse condition than you are now. Do I make myself clear?"

Caroline nodded as best as she could, eyes watering as she struggled to inhale as much oxygen as possible. Scabior's hand released his hold on her and she fell to the ground hard, landing roughly on her knees. She took a few deep breaths, stars clearing from her vision, before scrambling to her feet and back into the tent.

She huddled in a ball on the edge of the bed, shaking violently, and did not sleep the rest of the night.

Hours later, Caroline had stopped shaking, but had not once closed her eyes in fear of what might happen to her if she did. She was surprised, and extremely grateful, that Scabior had not stormed in sometime during the night to assert his dominance once more. She didn't think that her body could handle any more bruises.

Her neck held marks in the shape of fingertips from where Scabior had grabbed her and used it as a way to lift her feet from the ground. Her throat was sore and with every breath she took, she was reminded of his anger. The right side of her body held several abrasions and dark bruises from where she had fallen, as well as a good egg-sized bump at her temple.

She was sure that Scabior's use of the name "beautiful" would no longer suite her.

Not that it ever had.

She supposed that any girl would love to be called pet names such as "lovely," "beautiful," and "precious," but somehow the words slipping from the lips of a mad-man dulled the effect.

Instead they made her cringe.

Caroline's head snapped up when the rustle of the tent opening met her ears. She watched, her face devoid of any emotion, as Scabior walked in. He stopped a foot from the bed she was currently sitting on, eyes examining her face shrewdly. They stared at each other, not a single word passing between them, before Scabior sighed and moved away from the bed.

Caroline's lungs expelled a breath she hadn't known she was holding, before her body tensed again when she realized that Scabior was headed towards her once more. He was carrying a glass bottle in each hand and before she knew it, he was kneeling in front of her. Caroline made to move away, but the warning in his eyes stopped her.

"Drink this," he said brusquely, thrusting the bottle in his right hand at her. Caroline merely looked at it. "Beautiful, don't make me force you." She eyed the bottle again, her hand grabbing it from him.

"What is it?"

"Just drink it."

"Is it poison?" Scabior rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"No. Drink it, I'm not going to ask again."

"I don't remember you asking at all," she replied, grumbling under her breath, before eyeing the glass one more time and taking a long sip. She immediately gagged, eyes bugging out at the horrid taste of it. She pushed the bottle back into his hands and wiped her mouth with the back of her palm. Through her lashes, she scowled at him.

However, as she was busy coughing, a sort of soothing sensation shot through her. The throbbing of her head disappeared and she could feel the aches of her body lessening. She raised a shaky hand to her forehead, and sure enough, the golf ball-sized lump had disappeared, nor did it hurt to touch it. Caroline met Scabior's eyes and unexpectedly found a look of regret on his face.

Without speaking, his hand reached out towards her throat, a thick glob of paste on his fingertips. Caroline immediately shrunk back and his eyes hardened for a split second before the gleam disappeared.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly. Caroline snorted unwittingly.

"Like I believe you," was all she said. "Earlier you said you wouldn't hesitate to kill me. Forgive me if I don't like it when you touch me." Scabior frowned but said nothing. Instead, he reached out once more and smeared the paste across her neck, and at once the soreness faded, leaving not a single bruise upon her fair skin. The look on his face softened as he touched her neck tenderly, though it was quickly replaced with a sneer as he stood up, snapping out of it. Caroline was glad to rid of the body that had been _way_ too close to her for comfort.

Even when he had touched her so gently, he had still unnerved her, scared that he was going to decide to snap her neck instead.

And if that wasn't enough, the strange look upon his face had baffled her. She hadn't been aware that the man was capable of being nice, even if only for a second.

"Get up," he said, bringing her out of her thoughts. "We're leaving in a few minutes."

"Where are we going?"

"Diagon Alley," Scabior replied.

Caroline's feet landed on the ground with a thud, and once again she was forced to grab on to Scabior to keep from falling. She immediately pushed away from him, yanking her hand out of his, before clutching her stomach as that morning's breakfast turned restlessly, threatening to come back up. She took a few seconds to get her breathing back to normal before looking up.

What she saw made her heart sink, even though her current location meant nothing to her.

Caroline was standing in the middle of a large alley, surrounded by several shops that ran up and down the length of the walk-way on both sides. But that wasn't the heart-wrenching part.

Every single building was empty, appearing to have been broken into, violated. Doors were hanging by threads from their archways, papers lay strewn across the street, windows were broken, and from what she could tell, shelves that had once inhabited all the buildings were broken, the objects they had been holding thrown carelessly to the floor. Pieces of wood and shards of glass littered the ground, and Caroline was careful of where to put her foot as Scabior motioned her to follow.

The entire alley was deserted. Not a single soul, besides herself and the men, occupied this 'Diagon Alley.'

Caroline knew, she just _knew_, that this place had once been full of life. She could see, in her mind's eye, people filling up the streets. Girls chatting with their friends as they shopped for the latest fashions, teenage boys teasing their friends, couples holding hands, mothers pulling their children along…

Though she had no idea the purpose of this alley, and what it had once been, she knew that it was a place where people had once felt safe. It had been a place full of wonder and hope and goodness.

But now it was dark and grey, and she suspected that every shadow held some sort of horror within it. The fact that Scabior and his men seemed so at home in this alley could attest to that.

Caroline stood a few feet behind Scabior as he sauntered towards a little pub that she had missed before, her nose twisted in disgust at how comfortable he felt being in a place that lacked a sense of humanity.

But then again, after only knowing him for a few days, she supposed that it suited him.

He held the door to the pub open as the men entered, but thrust an arm out to keep Caroline from going in herself. She looked up at him questioningly as he bent down to whisper in her ear.

"Too bad for you that you can see this place. Otherwise, I might have finally believed all the lies you've been spewing to me," Scabior told her, his breath blowing a stray piece of hair onto her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, glaring up at him. Scabior simply shrugged his shoulders before his hand placed itself onto her back and shoved her inside. Caroline stumbled, but she quickly regained her footing as her eyes adjusted to the dark-lighting of the pub. The men were already sitting at a round table, several pairs of feet resting on it. The place was dirty; crawling with spiders and rats, and God only knows what else. Cobwebs hung from the rafts in the ceiling and something was dripping from a pipe in the far right corner.

Her mother would have fainted at the sight.

"S-S-Scabior," a voice, rusty from disuse, called out from her left. "S-so nice t-to see you a-again."

"Hello, Tom," Scabior replied lazily. "I can only imagine how _pleased_ I would be if I knew you actually meant that." The old man flushed and ducked his head as he went on pouring a drink. Caroline continued to walk forward, Scabior's hand still on her back.

"S-same as u-usual?" The man, Tom, asked, the stutter still prominent in his voice. Caroline felt for the man as she found herself pushed into a chair next to Leo. Scabior placed himself right beside her, and Caroline outwardly cringed as he placed his hand on her knee. He shot her a knowing grin.

"You want anything to drink, beautiful?"

"Water would be nice," she admitted hesitantly, surprised that he had even asked.

"Can't handle your alcohol?" he asked slyly.

"You asked what I wanted to drink, and I said water," Caroline replied stiffly. She made to move his hand off of her knee, but he swatted her hand away before gripping her knee even tighter.

At least he hadn't placed his hand _higher._ Caroline shuddered at that particular thought.

Minutes later, Caroline was sipping on her water, her taste buds disliking the slightly stale taste, but it was better than nothing, she supposed. The men around her talked about money, women, and _mudbloods_, laughing nosily as they drank what she assumed to be some sort of alcohol out of large mugs. Scabior was enjoying the banter, though he only added something to the conversation every few minutes. Leo, however, didn't say a word. Instead, he looked down at his hands in his lap. Caroline was desperate to carry on with their discussion from earlier this morning, but she knew it was not the time. Instead, the girl leaned backed in her chair, eyes darting around the pub.

The man Tom was looking at her curiously.

Caroline shot him a grimace, as if apologizing for her company. He nodded, smiling grimly, before going back to his task of cleaning the remaining tables.

She was a smart girl, though she knew Scabior clearly doubted that, but she was able to put two and two together well enough to know that Tom wasn't her enemy. Caroline knew that he was just as terrified of Scabior as she was, so he couldn't be _that_ bad. She needed to figure out some sort of plan to get him alone so she could explain her situation and ask him for help

She might have another shot of escaping. That is, if he was brave enough to risk his life for helping her.

Maybe it wasn't such a good plan after all. Damn it.

Caroline sighed, wondering if it was even worth it to talk to him. With her luck, he would turn around and tell Scabior that she had gone to him for help, in hopes of gaining his favor.

It seemed that fate had a way of teasing her with possible escape routes; dangling them in her face and then snatching them away before she could even taste the freedom. But Caroline refused to give up hope.

She couldn't. Not if she wanted to survive with not only her person intact, but also her mentality _as_ a person. She wouldn't allow herself to waste away to nothing.

Caroline has fought for so long for the chance to become _something_, even if it was something that her parents disapproved of. She wasn't going to let her struggle be in vain.

Life was made of struggles. Problems that beat and knocked people down. Situations that could cause one to questions themselves and their worth, and could make them lose all hope for a better life. But Caroline refused to let this situations get the best of her. She was going to rise above it all and-

"What do you think, love?" Scabior's voice interrupted her mid-thought, and she blinked as she tried to process the words that inserted themselves into her head.

"About what?" Scabior clucked his tongue, annoyed.

"Me and the men want to stay here for the night."

"Why are you asking me?" she asked haughtily. "You don't care about my opinion, and it seems that you've made up your mind already. Why waste your breath talking to me?" Scabior merely laughed.

"You're right," he told her, patting her knee. "I don't. But I thought I'd make you feel important for a second." Caroline rolled her eyes at his immaturity.

"So we're staying here then? Where are we supposed to sleep?"

"It's an inn," Scabior said dryly. "There are rooms upstairs." Caroline's mood immediately brightened.

"Really? Can I go up there now?"

"In a rush to get away from me?" he asked mockingly. "I'm offended, beautiful. I thought you were enjoying my company."

"Quite the opposite," was her reply. "What room am I in?"

"When did I say you were staying in a room?"

"Where else would I stay? The bathtub?"

"Maybe." Caroline rolled her eyes.

"I don't _have_ to stay here. I could always leave if you'd prefer that."

"I could let you stay with Fenrir, if you'd prefer _that,_" he retorted. Caroline closed her mouth shut with a snap, eyes darting over to Fenrir who was sitting across from her.

"I think I'd enjoy that very much, Scabior," the man in question said, smiling sinisterly at Caroline. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and she quickly looked away, disgusted. "How about it, lady? Let me show you how an animal has his fun." The other men in the group laughed, all except for Leo who shot her a pitying glance. She lowered her head, turning to face Scabior, and mumbled,

"No, thank you."

"Oh, come on, pretty lady. I can show-"

"I said no thank you!" she snapped, looking back at Fenrir just in time to see him stand up abruptly, throwing his chair to ground in a loud crack. A deep growl rumbled in this chest as he leaned across the table, his hand reaching out for her. Caroline immediately shot out of her chair in an effort to get away from his outstretched hand, but he was too fast for her. His fingers wrapped themselves around her hair, which had long escaped her hair tie, and he pulled her face to his.

"I'd watch your mouth, lady," he hissed, his horrid breath fanning out over her face. Caroline recoiled, only to have him pull her closer again. "I won't be tellin' you again. You hear me?"

"Yes," she whispered, trying not to gag at the smell.

"What was that?"

"I said yes," she said louder this time, her hand coming out to grip his, trying to pry his fingers out of her hair. He finally nodded, satisfied, and Caroline automatically drew back, her breathing labored. She shakily took a step backwards, nearly tripping over her own chair. A hand reached out, steadying her.

"Thank you, Fenrir, for that display," the owner of the hand commented dryly. "I expect that Caroline could have down without your horrid face so close to hers." The rest of the men roared with laughter, but she watched as his face turned red, though whether it was in embarrassment or fury she could not tell. His eyes met hers, issuing a threat that Caroline wanted to make sure was never consummated.

"Come," Scabior's gruff voice broke through her stare, startling her. Though, she thought, she was glad to have been distracted. She turned to look at Scabior, not surprised to see that it had been his hand that had stopped her from falling. "I'll take you to the room you'll be staying in."

"Oh, so I actually get a real bed to sleep in?" Caroline asked sarcastically, quickly regaining her smart tongue. Scabior smirked, as if he knew something she didn't.

"Yes, though the bed won't be just yours." The blood drained from her face instantly as he began leading her up a narrow flight of stairs. She stumbled, missing a step, but he continued dragging her up behind him.

"Who else's will it be?" she questioned, her stomach sinking. She wasn't sure that she wanted to know.

"Mine."

Oh joy.

"In that case, I think I'll take the bathtub."

* * *

A/N: Chapter 8 for you all! I know that my updates are taking a little longer than they have in the past, but I've just about gotten to the point in the semester where every single one of my teachers thinks it's funny to schedule tests within the same few weeks. Not to mention the fact that I just recently started a new job, so that's also a little time-consuming. So, please, bear with me, I promise it will be worth the wait :)

Annnnnnnnd moving on! Yes, Scabior was a _little _angry in this chapter, but again, he's a _Snatcher_, so he's kinda always angry haha. Again, please please please please _please_ review. I love hearing from all of you. It really makes my day when I get an email alert saying that someone reviewed. And as always, thanks for reading!

The song for this chapter is Coheed and Cambria's "Keeping the Blade." This song doesn't have any lyrics, but after listening to it for about ten seconds, it just _fit_, if that makes sense. The song, for whatever reason, immediately made me think of a disserted Diagon Alley. It sounds eerie and mysterious, and most importantly, _sad_. I encourage all of you to listen to it.

Love always,

-courtneylove15


	9. Blinding

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 9: Blinding**

* * *

"This is it?" Caroline glanced around the room, if one could even call it that. There was a bed in the center of the room that looked like it would barely fit two people, and a window towards the back with old, stained curtains that were handing crookedly to the side. The walls were painted an old musty yellow color and the odor of the room was stale. She looked at Scabior with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you expect something else?"

"Maybe something…_clean_," she responded, taking in the dirty floors and the bed whose sheets were wrinkled and collecting dust. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Disgusting.

Absolutely fucking _disgusting_.

"Well, princess, this is the best I can do," Scabior muttered, shoving her inside. She backed away from the door into the corner by the window (which she could hardly even see out of) and tried to get as far away from him as possible. Scabior, who was extremely broad shouldered and was at _least_ six foot two, seemed to take up the entire room. Caroline was already beginning to feel suffocated.

"Where will I be sleeping?"

He looked at her like she was stupid. "The bed."

"Um….no," was all she could think of to say. Apparently her intelligence had decided to take a vacation.

"Where else would you sleep?"

"Somewhere that does not involve being within ten feet of you." Scabior rolled his eyes, not amused by her antics. Caroline noted with dry amusement, and slight horror, that the room wasn't even ten feet wide.

"I won't even be here the majority of the night," he said, looking down at her, his gaze mocking. "We haven't been out of the woods for at least a week, and there's far too much fun to be had here."

"What kind of fun?" Caroline questioned instantly before she had even realized that her mouth had opened to speak, forgetting that she wasn't supposed to care about what he did, as long as he didn't do anything to _her_. Scabior eyed her dryly.

"I'm a man. Think about it."

Caroline's eyes widened, before they narrowed in abhorrence. "That's _revolting_."

"It's actually quite pleasurable."

"Not with you, it wouldn't be," she spat out, crossing her hands over her chest. She shuddered mentally at the thought of him doing…_that_ with her. Or him doing that with _anyone_, for that matter.

"If you're jealous, I can always stay here," he suggested, winking at her. Caroline immediately blanched, her eyes taking in the look he was giving her and hating it.

"No, thank you," she barely managed to grit out, her teeth clenched so tightly that they hurt. Her hands bunched at her sides, repulsed that he would even suggest such a thing. Scabior eyed her up and down before taking a slight step forward. Caroline followed his action by taking a step backwards herself, only to end up back against the wall.

"Oh, come on, beautiful. I think you'd enjoy it," Scabior voice was teasing, but his eyes were anything but. They had taken on a predatory look, one she had, frighteningly enough, gotten used to. He reached out to touch her, but she swatted his hands away and took a quick step to her right, effectively putting herself out of his reach.

"Don't you fucking touch me," she growled, her face red in anger. "If you seriously think I'd enjoy it, then you're dead wrong. How could I _ever_ enjoy the very same hands on my body that have killed so many people?" Scabior froze, his eyes darkening until they were almost black. The smirk on his lips vanished as they thinned into a tight, white line. Without warning, his hands shot out and grabbed her by the shoulders roughly before thrusting her back against the wall once more. Caroline let out a surprised scream.

Scabior pressed his body up against hers, effectively trapping her between the wall and his body.

"You don't know _anything_ about me, or what I have done," he seethed, the last portion of his sentence coming out in a hiss. Caroline's eyes glared up at him in hatred as her hands clutched the wall behind her.

"I know that you go around hunting people simply because of the family they were born into. You're a monster." Scabior let out a bark of laughter that was anything but humorous.

"You're awfully young to be passing out such judgments, aren't you?" he asked, mocking her. "What are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?" Caroline raised her chin in defiance.

"I'm twenty."

"That's hardly any better," Scabior responded. "You're too young to know anything about the ways of the world. Things happen for a reason, but I suspect that's all above your head." She squared her shoulders in offense.

"I'm not a child," she snapped. "And _you_ don't know anything about me either, or what _I_ have gone through. So don't assume anything about me."

"Oh, forgive me," he said sarcastically. "I must have forgotten my place. But I may be a _monster_, but at least I'm not a _traitor_."

"Traitor?" she gasped. "Who the fuck have I been betraying?" Scabior scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I've had it with you pretense, love. You either own up to your little game, or I'll have to force it out of you. What's it going to be?"

"It's not a pretense!" she shouted, hands shoving at him again. Her hands collided with his chest forcefully, but it didn't have the effect she desired. Instead, he grabbed both her wrists in one hands in raised them above her head, locking them against the wall. Caroline squirmed, trying to force his body off of hers, but he just pressed her against the wood even harder. She let out a shriek of outrage.

"Let _go_ of me!"

"No," he growled, his other hand coming to rest on her hip in a grip that was sure to turn into bruises later. Caroline reacted immediately. A well aimed knee came crashing upwards between his legs, causing the man to instantly let go of her and hunch over as Caroline ran for the door. However, Scabior, through his pain, still managed to grab hold of her long hair and drag her backwards, forcing her to land harshly on her back.

In an instant, Scabior was on top of her.

Panic filled her.

Lashing out in any way possible, Caroline's knees and hands collided with multiple parts of his body, but to no avail. The man simply weighed too much. As before, one of his hands encircled both of her wrists and thrust them upwards above her head. His legs pinned hers to the ground and his other hand came up to cover her mouth, forcing her to swallow her screams.

They were nose to nose, and Caroline would swear that she had never known eyes could be so full of malice.

"Try that _one_ more time and I will kill you, do you understand me?" he hissed in her ear. Caroline didn't respond. "DO YOU HEAR ME?" he roared this time, his fingers biting into the skin of her cheeks. Her eyes watered as she nodded as quickly. "My patience is wearing thin, girl, and I will no longer tolerate your disobedience. I am leaving for the night, but when I come back, I want all of my questions answered. Do you understand?"

Shakily, Caroline agreed, her head bobbing once.

"Good. Until then, you are not to leave this room," Scabior growled. He abruptly released her mouth and got off of her. With a small note of satisfaction, Caroline watched as he winced as he stood up, the place between his legs still obviously hurting him. From her place on the floor, Caroline let her eyes follow his form as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Once she was sure he was gone and not coming back, she slowly sat up and backed up against the wall. She hugged her knees to her chest, her eyes not leaving the door as she stared unblinkingly ahead of her. She didn't how long she sat like that, hands tightly clutched around her curled up legs, but when a knock sounded on the door, she was surprised to find that the sun had already begun to set. The room was cast in an eerie light, the few pieces of furniture in the room littering random shadows across the floor.

With shaky knees, she stood up and slowly made her way over to the door. Her hand twisted the door knob hesitantly, as if it was going to bite her, before she turned it all the way and opened up the door, revealing Leo's grim face.

"You alright?" his gruff voice asked, surprising her.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she questioned. He looked at her incredulously.

"We all 'eard ya and Scabior fightin'. It's been a few hours, and I wanted to make sure ya were okay," he replied, looking at her strangely. Caroline's eyes widened.

"A few hours?"

"Yes," Leo answered slowly. "It be just about dinner time. I came up as soon as the others left. Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Caroline answered. Her hand reached up to scratch her forehead in confusion, as if she wasn't sure which way was up and which way was down."I didn't know it had been that long, I guess."

"Oh," was all Leo replied with. They stood there awkwardly, looking at each other. The man was fairly short, only a few inches taller than herself, but he looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. His posture was poor at best, and there were large creases of worry and stress on his forehead. His mouth was sit into a grim line, and his eyes were sad. For the first time since she had been taken, she felt sorry for someone besides herself.

Caroline could tell that he was deeply unhappy with what he was doing, and though she understood that she didn't know everything about him, he couldn't be that horrible of a person. He was the only one who had befriended her (though she hadn't expected anyone to, quite frankly) but he also seemed genuinely sorry for everything that had happened to her. She wasn't about to condone the things she knew he had done in the past, but she was almost ready to admit that maybe he really _didn't_ have a choice.

Caroline wanted to know what had pushed him to live this life.

With a sigh, Leo ran his hands through his thin hair before lowering his gaze to the ground.

"Are you hungry?" he questioned.

"Starving, actually."

"I'll be back with some food."

Mere minutes later, Leo and Caroline were sitting on the bed, a small lamp on the desk across from it lighting up the otherwise dark room. Silence rested between the pair as they ate the questionable-looking turkey legs. Caroline tore her bread into tiny pieces before nibbling on it, grimacing at the stale taste. But she supposed that she would take whatever she could get.

Leo sat across from her, sipping from a mug of water. He gulped it down loudly before taking a large bite of the turkey, his mouth not closing completely causing Caroline to scrunch up her nose in slight disgust.

"Why do you do it?" she questioned suddenly, setting down her own food. Leo paused, looking up at her. He swallowed quickly.

"Do what?"

"Do what you do," she responded. "You know, follow around with Scabior and the others."

"Caroline-"

"Please tell me," she said quietly. "I won't judge you."

Leo merely raised his eyebrow.

"I mean," Caroline quickly amended, "that I just want to hear your story, is all." The man sighed, pushing his plate away from him, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to finish it. He lowered his head for a second, eyes focused on his lap as if embarrassed.

"It not be a happy story, miss," he said quietly.

"I'm not expecting it to be," Caroline responded gently, encouraging him to continue. She scooted backwards on the bed towards the pillows, tucking her feet beneath her. Leo looked up, eyes staring deeply into hers.

"The Dark Lord killed my eldest daughter."

Caroline gasped in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. Whatever she had been expecting, it clearly wasn't _that_.

"_Why?_"

"Because I 'ad wanted to be neutral in this war," he replied, his fist curling. "I come from a long line o' purebloods, and to him it be unacceptable to be neutral. So he killed me daughter to put me in my place."

"Who gave him that authority?" Leo's head snapped back up, eyes locking with hers.

"No one gave 'im the _authority_," Leo said darkly. "He took it. He's the most powerful dark wizard there 'as ever been. He rules with fear alone. He does what he wants because he wants to. No questions asked."

"Is anyone trying to stop him? How can people let him go on like this?" she asked, both fear and anger lacing her tone.

"Of course there be people tryin' to stop 'im," Leo replied, still upset. "But it not be that simple."

"Leo, he _killed_ your daughter. Why are you fighting for him? Why are you helping him?"

"Because he's threatened to kill my wife and son," he said quietly. So quietly that Caroline could barely hear him. But she did. And then she understood. She _understood_ what was driving him to do what he was doing. "I'm not a powerful wizard, miss. Not like Scabior or some o' the others that be fighting for 'im. I'm not strong enough to stand up to 'im. But I can't let him kill them too. I just _can't._" And with that, he burst into tears.

Dumbstruck, both by his story and sobs, Caroline sat there as his body heaved. Then, springing into action, she moved over to him and threw her arms around his shoulders. She held him as he cried and rubbed her hand gently down his back. A few minutes passed and his cries settled, turning into quiet hiccups. Leo lifted his tear-stained face, his gaze turned downwards, as if he was embarrassed.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly.

Caroline merely nodded silently, releasing her hold on him as he hastily wiped his face. She quickly realized that the man was uncomfortable to have been seen in such a state.

"Do you know where a restroom is?" she asked, hoping to be able to give him a few minutes to collect himself. The man nodded.

"There be a loo down the hall to the right. It's the only one on the floor," he said, trying to compose himself. "There be a shower and a few towels in there if you wish to bathe." Forgetting herself, Caroline's eyes brightened.

"Really? I can take a shower?" she asked excitedly. For a moment, all she cared about was getting clean. Leo smiled despite himself, and with a flick of his hand, shooed her out of the room. Caroline quickly left, forgetting about Scabior's demand about not leaving the room, and made her way down to the restroom. She found it easily enough, and once inside, she barely noticed the stains on the floor, the mold on the wall…

There was a shower.

A real life freaking _shower_.

Thank God.

Locking the door behind her, she hastily stripped, noticing with relief that there were a few towels that appeared to be clean. At least she _hoped_ they were.

But she found that she didn't care when she stepped under the spray of the nozzle, pleased when the water was warm. She hadn't expected it. She closed the curtain behind her and closed her eyes as the steam pooled around her.

Caroline sighed in bliss as the water streamed down the skin of her back, allowing herself just a _few_ minutes to be somewhat happy. She had been kidnapped, threatened, damn near tortured, beaten up, nearly choked to death…

But the warm water was quickly making up for it.

Caroline noted with surprise that there were two large bottles on her right; one labeled _shampoo_ and the other _conditioner._ They didn't smell as good as she would have liked, but she supposed that beggars couldn't be choosers. She quickly rinsed the dirt, and God only knows what else, out of her hair, and proceeded to scrub down her scalp and the rest of her body.

She didn't hear the door open.

Allowing herself just a couple of more minutes, Caroline relaxed under the spray. She closed her eyes and pretended that she was somewhere else. She imagined that she was in her aunt's house, taking a long shower after dinner. Her aunt would have been cleaning up after the pair, making cookies, and getting ready to decorate the Christmas tree.

Or maybe she could have been in Mexico, rinsing off after a long day down at the beach. Watching children make sandcastles, couples stroll hand in hand down the coast, sipping on a large fruity drink with one of those frilly umbrellas in it…

Cursing when the water suddenly turned ice-cold, Caroline turned around and shut off the nozzle. Wiping the water from her eyes, she reached above her and grabbed the towel she had placed over the curtain bar. She dried herself off as best as she could before wrapping the towel tightly around her. Sad that her fantasy had been so short-lived, she slowly pulled the curtain back.

A scream caught in her throat when she realized she was standing toe to toe with none other than Fenrir.

He growled.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry that it took so long. School's my main priority, and work comes second. On top of that, my brother was in the hospital Saturday night because he took a baseball to the eye, and I've been sick. Add a choir concert to that and a few essays and life gets really stressful. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'll try to have the next one up by next week at the latest, but if it's any longer, I apologize in advance.

As always, thank you so much for reading and please PLEASE review!

-courtneylove15

This chapter's title is "Blinding" by Florence + the Machine


	10. The Sharpest Lives

**Breaking Point **

**Chapter 10: The Sharpest Lives**

* * *

Caroline took a step back automatically, wide eyes staring up at Fenrir.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded, clutching her towel to her body as tightly as she could in an act of ancient female modesty. Internally, she doubted it would help anything, but she still used it as her only source of protection.

"I needed to use the toilet," he replied, grinning down at her, amused by her distress. Caroline's knees shook beneath her, but she refused to let him see her fear. The men here had already seen too much of it, and she didn't want them to continue using it against her. She may not be as physically strong as any of her captors, but her willpower would outlast theirs. She would see to it.

"The door was locked," Caroline shot back. "Clearly that's a sign that the restroom is already being _used_." Frustratingly enough, the man merely laughed. Except, it didn't sound like a _man's_ laughter, but rather something _inhuman._ It sent chills down to her bones.

"The lock didn't do much to keep me out," he stated, raising his eyebrow.

"Obviously," Caroline muttered under her breath, but the widening of his grin let her know that he had heard her. "Did your mother even _try _to teach you any manners, or did she realize you were hopeless early on?"

"I was hopeless," came the quick response.

"Clearly," she said sarcastically, hands turning white around her towel. She shivered, but held her ground, deciding then and there she wouldn't let him get the best of her. Especially when he kept looking at her like she was some treat to be devoured. "Do you mind?"

"Mind what, girly?"

"I need to change. Can you get out?"

"I think I like the view I already have," he said, his hand reaching out to grab the edge of her towel. Caroline gasped in outrage and backed further into the shower. To her horror, he followed her. She had to tilt her head back to look up to him, but once she met his eyes, she wished she hadn't. He stared down at her, a feral grin on his face, accompanied by an unwanted look in his eyes.

Caroline wasn't used to having men look at her like that. In fact, she wasn't used to men really looking at her, period.

She didn't like it. At all.

Before she knew it, her back was pressed firmly against the wall, the cold tile shocking her skin. But she preferred that to the large, beefy arms that found themselves on either side of her shoulders, effectively boxing her in. Faster than she could think it, she went to duck underneath his arms, only for him to grab her and slam her back against the wall. Letting out a cry of pain, Caroline tried to push his hands off of her, but to no avail.

Caroline froze when his head angled down towards hers. It buried itself in between her neck and shoulder, and…._sniffed_.

Caroline gasped in surprise and renewed her efforts to push him off of her, but he held his ground easily, seeing as how he was nearly as large as Scabior.

"You smell…_delicious_," he growled in her ear. "Let me taste you." Eyes wide as saucers, Caroline wrapped her fingers in his greasy, stringy hair and yanked his head away from her neck.

"Get _off_," she grit up, her hands shaking in exertion as she used all of her strength to keep his face away from hers. His eyes, glowing a strange orange color, heated as she struggled against him. He opened his mouth to bark out a retort, but the sound of a throat clearing behind them interrupted him. Caroline watched as he swung around to face the new person.

"What do you want?" Fenrir snapped, his teeth clicking together sharply.

"Scabior don't want anyone touching her, Fenrir," a voice spoke from the doorway. Leo. "Best not make 'im angry."

"I don't give a damn what Scabior thinks," the man ground out, and Caroline couldn't tell who he was speaking to: himself, or Leo. But luckily, a second later, he pushed himself away from Caroline anyways, while still managing to look at her. He leaned towards her again, his grin no longer teasing, and put his mouth close to her ear.

"Scabior's protection won't last long, girly. And when it runs out, you will be _mine_." And before she could stutter out a response, he strode out of the bathroom, his hulky frame barely making it through the doorway as he pushed Leo to the side. Caroline merely stared after him, her mouth agape as she repeated the words in her head. Wordlessly, she met Leo's eyes and just stared at him before she moved forward and shut the door quietly in his face, desperate to get into her clothes.

Desperate to have that basic form protection surrounding her.

Hands shaking and nerves rattled, she gingerly sat down on the toilet, relieved that her knees didn't give out on her. Her hands gripped her hair tightly as she tried to regain her breath. She met her eyes in the reflection across from her and it was almost as if a look of horror was deeply and permanently grained in her face. She wasn't surprised.

Her dark eyes, though never considered _vibrant_ in all her years, had lost their shine. They were dull, despite the small spark of defiance that she knew was buried deep within. The bruises along her shoulders, arms, and legs stood out in striking contrast against her fair skin, and also seemed to mock her. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes…but to Caroline, those were nothing new.

"You alright, miss?" Leo's voice drifted from the other side of the door, forcing Caroline to rip her eyes away from her reflection, much to her relief. Mirrors were something that could draw a person in quickly, and never let one go until they made sure every flaw and imperfection was realized. Caroline had always hated them.

"I'm fine," she all but gasped a reply. She quickly stood up, her legs no longer feeling like jelly beneath her.

She looked down on the floor, ready to grab for her dirty clothes, and with shock noticed that her bag was there. She figured that Leo had been bringing it to her when he found Fenrir with her, and she was grateful that he had gotten there when he had.

Truly, honestly, _sincerely_ grateful.

With a sigh, Caroline quickly pulled on some of the random articles of clothing she had packed in a rush. She ran the brush through her knotted hair and noted with disdain that she had no more hair ties to pull it back with. Her hair would be a frizzy, curly mess by the time it was finished drying.

In a moment of dry and random humor, Caroline quickly snorted to herself, amused and worried for her sanity when she found out that she had honestly cared about what her hair was going to look like.

Who cared about their appearance when they were captured by a bunch of mad men? Seriously. As if her head hadn't _already_ needed to be analyzed for lunacy…

With one last glance around her as she picked up her belongings, she took a deep breath and opened up the door. The steam let out of the tiny bathroom and Caroline momentarily shivered as she was greeted with the colder air. Her eyes met Leo's, both gratitude and shame hidden in them, before she walked past him.

Without speaking a word to each other, as she was in no mood to speak, Caroline and Leo shortly after made their way down towards her bedroom. As Caroline twisted the door knob, Leo opened his mouth to say something, but before he could anything, Caroline muttered a quiet 'thank you' and promptly shut the door quietly in his face for the second time that night.

She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. She just wanted to be alone.

Letting out a deep breath, Caroline sat on the edge of the bed. Her mind was a whirlwind of many different emotions: fear, anxiety, anger, helplessness…

All were emotions were ones that she was familiar with from having to deal with her parents for so long. She supposed that she should have been used to them by now, but she had thought that once she had left her house, she would be able to finally try on some new emotions for size.

Happiness. Contentment. Peace.

Apparently fate had had something different in mind for her.

Maybe her life was _always_ going to be fucked up in some way. God forbid that she actually be _happy_ for once.

And…now she sounded like a sulking teenager who was about to go and draw a pair of scissors across their wrists…

Huffing to herself as she realized that she was once again throwing herself a pity-party, she stood up and crossed the room to blow out the candle on the desk. The room was immediately engulfed in darkness and Caroline was forced to make her way back over to the bed with her hands out in front of her, feeling her way through. She cursed loudly as she stubbed her toe, before falling into the bed when her knees hit the edge. With a groan, she readjusted her body to get under the covers, cringing as she thought of all the nasty things that were probably under there with her.

In the darkness, she stared up at the ceiling, her toe still throbbing.

A sudden thought occurred to her, one that caused a wry smile to touch her lips.

One would think that these _wizards_, with their superior knowledge and power, would have invented something better than a _lamp,_ with actual fire, for light purposes. Apparently magic could only take one so far…

It was the last thought that crossed her mind before she fell into a surprisingly deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, her ears were met with…silence.

It was a surprise, a _nice_ one, to have not been woken up by laughter or screams. She imagined it wasn't something she should get used to. With her luck, this was something that was going to be abnormal.

And while the last thing she wanted to do was get up and face another day of reality, the hunger pains in her stomach were getting quite loud and forceful. When she was younger, and angry at her parents, she used to skip meals in an attempt to show them how angry she was at them, thinking that they would care and ask her what was wrong when she didn't show up for dinner.

They didn't. They didn't _care_ and they didn't _ask._

She figured Scabior wouldn't either.

So therefore, there was no point in skipping breakfast when the only one who would be suffering was herself.

With that logic, she shoved the covers off of her and swung her feet over the edge of the bed, hissing when they came into contact with the cold floor. However, she ignored it and moved over to the corner of the room to her shoes where she quickly put them on, despite her lack of socks. She rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of sleep, and stepped out into the hallway. Thinking back to yesterday, and how she had gotten upstairs, she turned left and quickly found the way that would lead to the lower level.

She took each step slowly and carefully as they creaked beneath her, and out of self-preservation, she gripped the handrail tightly, feeling like they were going to cave beneath her. However, no such thing happened and she reached the bottom in no time. Her stomach rumbling, Caroline made to turn the corner that would lead her to the area she and the men had sat in yesterday, but a loud voice, followed but an even louder crash, caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

"YER GOIN' ABOUT THIS ALL WRONG!"

Fenrir.

Sure enough, when Caroline peeked her head around the corner, all she could see was Fenrir shaking in rage, a table tipped over on its side a few feet away from him.

"Maybe yes, maybe no. But that's not for you to decide, Fenrir," a calm voice responded, and Caroline didn't have to guess who it was. She already knew it was Scabior. After spending a few nights having nightmares about him, she would recognize his voice in the crowd at a Rockies game.

"Why is it up to you, _Scabior_?" the man hissed, spit flying out from between his lips as he sneered.

"I dunno. Why don't you take Umbridge up on that question?" Scabior replied easily, as if the other man didn't intimidate him. _Oh wait_, Caroline thought sarcastically, _nothing intimidates him. _Taking a risk, Caroline leaned further around the corner. The first thing she noticed was that all of the other men were gone.

It was only Fenrir and Scabior.

Oh, goody. Her favorites.

Her eyes then drew in the sight of Scabior leaning back in a chair, his legs propped up on the table in front of him. A half-smoked-on cigarette glowed from between his lips as he took a long drag, waiting for Fenrir's response.

"That old hag? Wha' she know abou'-"

"I'd be careful about what you say 'bout her, Fenrir," Scabior said nonchalantly as he released a puff of air, causing the smoke to slide out of his mouth as smoothly as his words had. "If it weren't for her, you wouldn't have this job in the first place. You might be just another half-breed I'd be hunting down for her." Caroline watched in fascination as Fenrir's face momentarily drained of all color, before it returned in full force.

"How dare you-"

"No," Scabior spat, finally standing up. "How dare _you_. Questioning my judgment , and therefore Umbridges. I'm sure she'd be _delighted_ to know how you're already causing problems, just like the Dark Lord mentioned you would. You may be fighting for our side, but deep down, you're just a _dog. _Rabid and uncontrollable, and with no lick of brains in that tiny head of yours." Fenrir's body shook of anger, his face as red as a tomato, though certainly not in embarrassment.

"You jus' wait, Scabior," he seethed, his fists clenching and unclenching. "You'll be getting' what's comin' to ya. And I'll be _sure_ to be the one to give it to ya."

Scabior's face had gone back to being neutral as he received the threat. He shrugged his shoulders and took another drag from his cigarette. Caroline had never seen him so…calm. It was eerie, and downright disconcerting, as his behavior suggested that he honestly didn't give a fuck as he stood in front of someone clearly wanted to kill him, and probably could.

In vain she tried to understand their conversation, and what it possibly meant, but nothing was coming to her.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't," he replied vaguely once more. "But until then, you do as I say." There was a threat deeply laced in that tone, and Caroline herself shivered as she recognized it, after having been the receiving end so many times herself. It seemed to have the same effect on Fenrir because she watched as his shoulders hunched in defeat, those his face remained hard.

"Fine," Fenrir growled belligerently. "But I'm telling ya that Potter is-"

"We have no clue where Potter is and you bloody well know it!" the other man snapped suddenly, frustration slipping out. It seemed that Fenrir had struck a nerve. Fenrir knew it too, and a smirk appeared slightly on his face before he crossed his arms over his chest. "We've been hunting him for months, and he has yet to show up."

"He could be at Hogwarts-"

Hogwarts?...if she wasn't lost before, she was now…

Scabior snorted, his face glowering. "That's a load of codswallop, Fenrir and you know it. There ain't no way he's there." Caroline watched in fascination as he began pacing back and forth. At this point, half of Caroline's body was peeking out from behind the corner, desperate to gain any information that would give her insight as to what and _who_ she was dealing with.

"How do 'spect to find him if ya don' try to look for him?"

"I'm telling you, Fenrir, that laying low is out best option," the man said testily. The time between drags were getting shorter and shorter. "We continue huntin' everyone else and wait for him to show himself."

"He's no' gonna-"

"For Merlin's sake, Fenrir," Scabior shouted in exasperation. "The boy's _seventeen_. His testicles probably haven't even dropped _yet._ And I don't care how bloody smart that mudblood with him is, but they're bound to make a mistake. Despite what some of the wizarding world may think, Harry fucking Potter is NOT infallible."

Caroline's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Who's Harry Potter?"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and with a gasp, her hands flew to her mouth in horror. Before she could whip herself back around the corner, both men turned to face her.

She was dead.

* * *

A/N: I'm soooooooooooooooooooooo sorry that this has taken so long. I've had the biggest case of writer's block EVER. I knew where the chapter was going, but I just couldn't _get there_. So I re-wrote it and re-wrote it, and then eventually left it alone, thinking that it would come to me. And…it never did. And then, earlier today I was re-reading some of the reviews you all have left me and it made me feel so bad that I've left you all hanging for so long. So I sat down at my computer, re-read a few earlier chapters, and it CAME TO ME! So thank you all for being my inspiration! As for the next chapter, it might be a while. School's really cracking down and I have a huge audition in about a month. But rest assured that I am NOT abandoning this story, and that I plan to see it through!

This chapter's title is the song "The Sharpest Lives" by My Chemical Romance.


	11. For Your Entertainment

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 11: For Your Entertainment**

* * *

Caroline's wide eyes met Scabior's as he lowered the cigarette from his mouth, his lips instantly thinning. She heard a grumble of laughter, which she knew came from Fenrir, but she didn't bother paying attention to him. Right now, _he_ wasn't the one she feared.

It was Scabior she was afraid of.

The man whose ice blue eyes could see right through someone; penetrate them without their permission. Eyes that spoke of numerous memories of bringing people to their knees; both in pain and anguish, proceeded and followed by pleas that fell upon deaf ears.

No.

Fenrir didn't scare her at all, not with Scabior standing a mere few feet away.

"Caroline," he drawled out easily, though the look on his face hardly matched his tone. "How nice of you to join us. Are you hungry?"

She immediately shook her head, her hand still latched on to her mouth. Instinctively, she began edging back behind the corner, though she knew it was far too late now. She had already buried herself in a hole so deep that she doubted she would be able to climb out.

"Are you sure? We have plenty of food and Fenrir and I would _love_ for you to join us."

"I-I'm fine," she answered meekly. "I was just...I was just…I'll go back up to my room now," she stuttered slightly as her curled fist rested at her side, the nails biting deeply into her palm.

"Oh, come now, beautiful, don't be like that," he tsked, taking a small step towards her. "Come, join us." His hand, now void of his earlier cigarette, reached out to her, beckoning her forward. Caroline merely shook her head, not liking his eerie display of calmness. But before she could take another step back, his face hardened. "NOW, Caroline."

Head bent in fear, she walked slowly towards him. When she was close enough, he roughly grabbed her arm and forced her into a chair. He, however, remained standing, and Caroline was reminded of how vulnerable she was to this man. His _size_ was enough to overwhelm her. Gulping, her dark eyes travelled up his body until they met his. His eyes, while the color of the water that froze in the polar regions, blazed down at hers as if they were on fire. Caroline didn't take the time to notice the juxtaposition.

"Now, Caroline," his deceptively calm voice was back as he regarded her. "What were you doing, coming down here? I believe I made it explicitly clear that you were not to leave your room without my permission."

"I…I...I…"

"I..I..I," he mocked, his voice raising a few octaves to imitate her voice. Fenrir guffawed. Caroline's eyes darted over to his for a split second before she looked back at the man towering over her. "I know you're capable of speaking English, love. Try again."

"I was l-looking for Leo," she stated quietly, twisting her hands in her lap nervously, praying desperately that he wouldn't see through her lie. She didn't want to tell him that she had _indeed_ been hungry, lest he decide that the reason wasn't good enough.

"And why would that be?" Scabior went along with it. Out of the corner of her vision, she watched him light up another cigarette. No lighter or match was needed. Caroline hated these small reminders of the world she had so suddenly, and unluckily, found herself in.

"I..uh, I needed to…erm…ask him a question," Caroline forced out.

"What kind of question would he be able to answer that I wouldn't be able to?" Scabior asked, his face mockingly curious. Damn it, he could see right through her. So much for that.

"I _would_ have come to ask you, if I had known you were back," Caroline instantly replied. "You left last night and I wasn't sure where you were." Scabior raised his eyebrow.

"How touching. You were worried about me."

"Of course I wasn't," Caroline snapped automatically. If anything she was worried that he _would_ come back. Scabior merely eyed her and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nevertheless, it appears you found me quite some time ago," he said dryly. "Yet you made no move to come up to me…" She opened her mouth to refute his claim, but he shook his finger at her, causing her to shut her mouth in annoyance. "Ah ah ah, don't lie to me, beautiful."

Caroline cursed mentally, knowing that he had already trapped her into admitting that she had been eavesdropping.

"I didn't want to interrupt your conversation," the girl quickly tried to appease him. "It sounded important." Again, another snort from Fenrir.

"Oh, I see," Scabior smirked, quickly inhaling and exhaling the smoke from the cigarette. "Well, I thank you for being so _courteous_. However, you obviously found it to be so _important_ that you believed you had the right to know what we were discussing, huh?" Scabior flicked the tip of his cigarette, and Caroline gasped in pain when the ash landed on her hand.

"I didn't hear much!" she cried out, shaking her arm to rid it of the ash before cradling the injured hand to her chest. "I was only there for a few minutes!"

"A few minutes is all it takes," the man replied, shaking his head, his eyes taking in, and _enjoying_, her frazzled state.

"Please," Caroline begged, "I didn't even understand half of what you were saying! I don't know any-"

"Perhaps," Fenrir finally spoke, interrupting her after hearing the first part of her statement, and having tired of merely observing the scene, "we should focus on what finally gave her away."

Scabior looked at him curiously, not following Fenrir's train of thought. Fenrir rolled his eyes.

"Seriously?" he muttered to himself. He drew himself up to full height, as if he was proud of himself for being so clever, and looked at Caroline, eyes dancing with sadistic merriment. "She asked who _Harry Potter_ was." Scabior's head whipped back to face Caroline and smirked.

"That's right," he drawled out slowly, enjoying watching her squirm. "Thank you, Fenrir. I had forgotten." Fenrir wasn't surprised.

Caroline looked at him, both confused and terrified. "It was just an honest question, Scabior. You don't have to answer it, honestly, I know it's none of my business…I was just-"

"The thing is, love," he said, leaning down to her level, his face dangerously close, his breath reeking of cigarettes, "I'm _not_ going to answer it. Because I damn well _know_ that _you_ _know_ who he is."

"But…I really _don't_ know who he is," she replied, her face innocent in its bewilderment. His eyes darkened and Caroline could already feel the storm that was about to be released. She began pleading. "Scabior! Please! I'm telling the _truth!_ I don't know who Harry Potter is! All I know about him is what you said just a few minutes ago! I heard you and Fenrir fighting when I came downstairs and I overheard a few things. But that's _it!_ I promise!"

"Save me this charade, Caroline," he snapped. He backhanded her, ignoring her cry of pain and the reddening of her skin. "You may be young, but you're not _that_ young. And though you may be stupid, I highly doubt you're ignorant enough to not know who _Harry Potter _is."

"But…I'm not from here. I'm from the United States," she tried again, her cheek throbbing as she held her uninjured hand up to it. She hoped desperately that the excuse, while true, would save her again. Scabior didn't let it slide.

"Harry Potter's an international _hero_," he spat out the word like one spat out the shells of sunflower seeds. "There's not a wizarding person in the _world_ who doesn't know of him." He threw his cigarette angrily to the floor of the pub, ruthlessly grounding it into the wood. The act alone showed what the man was capable of doing to _anything_ he deemed insignificant.

However, Caroline's mouth immediately opened to tell him that she _wasn't_ a member of the wizarding community, but she stopped when she saw the look on his face. His snarl was daring her to say the very words on her lips. And she knew that, once again, he would hurt her if she said them.

The man had a very short fuse, one that Caroline seemed to light often, no matter what she did.

So she simply hung her head and didn't say anything.

"What's this?" came Scabior's sarcastic voice. She heard him shift around briefly before he continued. "Caroline doesn't have anything to say? Well this is certainly a nice change. One I could get used to." She felt a finger lift her chin up and she was met with blue eyes as she took in the fact that Scabior was no longer standing in front of her, but rather _kneeling_ in front of her. Caroline's body jerked back in shock, but Scabior's firm grip quickly pulled her back. His eyes bore into hers, brutally searching for everything she might be hiding. Caroline desperately wanted to close her own, but something stopped her. She couldn't break their contact, no matter how much she wanted to.

The man had her captivated. But certainly not in a good way.

However, before even a minute had passed, a loud commotion outside of the pub greeted her ears, effectively stopping the hold he had over her. Caroline would have sighed in relief if she had thought for one second that this conversation with him was over. Scabior stood up and looked out Fenrir.

"Go outside," he ordered abruptly, his eyes flashing, but his expression bored. "See what's happening and stop it." The other man simply nodded, his eyes meeting Caroline's briefly, before striding outside, his hulking figure disappearing behind the slammed door.

Now she was alone with him. Oddly enough, she preferred it when Fenrir was in the room.

Silence echoed throughout the pub's dining room before Scabior abruptly looked back at Caroline. A smirk suddenly lighted his face and Caroline suddenly found herself leaping out of the chair, anxious to get as far away from him as possible.

"Caroline," he began, his sadistic amusement clear. "_What_ am I going to do with you?"

"Let me go," she responded automatically, placing a table in between the two of them. Scabior let out a bark of laughter.

"No matter how many times you say that, it's never going to happen," he told her idly, twirling his wand around his fingers. Caroline had thought as much, but it had been worth the shot. Kinda.

No, not at all, really.

"You can't possibly have any use for me," she stated, eyes darting over to the stairs, planning a way to escape from him, even if only for a few moments. "What's the point of keeping around?"

"There isn't one," he replied simply, his eyebrow raised in his signature move. He took a step closer.

"Then why-"

"Because I want to." Another step.

"That hardly makes any sen-"

"Why does there have to be logic behind my reasons for wanting to keep you?" One foot closer.

"But that isn't-"

"It isn't what? Right? Fair?" he mocked. He moved closer still. "The world ain't fair, beautiful. Get used to it."

He was only five feet away from her now, and with every inch he lessened the distance between them with, the room seemed to get smaller and smaller until she could hardly breathe. But she held her ground.

"And you can't always take what's not yours," she spat back in rebuttal, edging around the table, desperate to put herself out of his arm's reach. His eyes narrowed.

"But you _are_ mine."

Before she could think, Caroline lunged for the stairs. But Scabior had already sensed her actions and had leapt after her. His hands wrapped themselves roughly around her upper arms, effectively stopping her frantic escape. He threw her callously against the wall, immediately pushing his body into hers to trap her there.

Caroline struggled wildly in his arms, but it was no use. No matter how much she thrashed about, she was no match for his strength. But that didn't stop her from trying. A hand suddenly wrapped around her throat, and her own began to claw at it.

"Did you hear that, love?" Scabior's voice whispered into her ear. "You're _mine._"

"I…am…not…yours," she heaved, her breathing labored. The hand wasn't necessarily cutting off her breathing, but the panic rushing through her veins made it difficult to speak.

Scabior merely laughed.

"Oh, how wrong you are," the man replied. He let go of her neck and instead used his hand to raise her chin so he could look her in the eye. He pushed himself yet closer. "For instance, if I decided that I wanted to kill you right now, I would."

Caroline's eyes widened in fear.

"If I decided that I wanted your hair to be bright pink, I would make it so."

A hand wound itself in her hair and jerked her head back.

"If I wanted you to be silent for the rest of your life, I would cut your tongue out."

His thumb brushed over her bottom lip.

"If I wanted to feel your skin against mine, your clothes would be off before you could even think the word 'no'."

He ran his hand down her side and pushed up the bottom of her sweatshirt ever so slightly, touching the cool skin of her stomach beneath. Caroline jerked against him, eyes flashing.

"And if I truly wanted to have you, in every way, shape, and form…I would."

And before Caroline could scream out a single syllable, Scabior did the unthinkable.

He kissed her.

Brutally.

And without forgiveness.

* * *

A/N: Chapter 11 for all of you! Sorry about the lack of updates, but that last few weeks have practically been a rush to the finish line. I have two more finals left, plus an audition, and then I'm done until summer course begin! Hopefully I'll be able to pump out a few chapters within in the next month, but please don't be too angry if I can't. I'm really trying here! Anyways, thank you so much for all of the reviews on the last chapter and all of the ones before it. I really appreciate all of them!

The song for this chapter is "For Your Entertainment" by Adam Lambert.


	12. Whisper

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 12: Whisper**

* * *

Caroline stood there. Frozen.

Eyes squeezed shut, her body refused to move, even though she had been all but flailing about just a few moments ago. All she could focus on was Scabior.

The man who had her pressed so tightly against the wall that he was surely crushing her ribs.

The man who had one hand plunged deeply into her dark hair, and the other gripping her hip with a bruising force under her shirt.

The man who was…_kissing_ her.

_Ew._

Apparently Caroline's body had been shocked into oblivion, much like her mind. But when his hand started ghosting farther up her stomach, it sprung into action. Mustering all the force she could, she pushed against his chest with both of her hands.

It didn't do anything.

Nothing.

At.

All.

Except cause him to chuckle into her mouth.

He resumed kissing her, though his hand stopped its passage upwards. His lips moved forcibly over hers, causing them to go numb. His tongue darted out to taste her lips, though he quickly withdrew it back into his mouth. He let out a low moan, disgusting Caroline with the sound. Her lips, still closed, remained frozen beneath him, though he didn't seem to mind.

Caroline was of the opposite opinion, and she was seconds away from losing her stomach. She may have shared a few other disgusting kisses in her lifetime, but this was _by far _the worst. She needed to do something.

Thinking quickly, Caroline brought her teeth down on his lip and bit. Hard.

Letting out an un-manly yelp, Scabior ripped himself away from her, his hand flying to his mouth as a tiny stream of blood began trickling down his chin. The shock of the dark red against his subtly tanned skin reminded her of the true monster he truly was.

Caroline cowered against the wall, though her eyes were triumphant. His face was one of astonishment and Caroline felt satisfied that, for once, _she_ had stunned _him. _That is, until he did something so un-Scabior like that she froze once again.

He smiled.

The man fucking _smiled._ A true one; not one of his sarcastic and demeaning grins that he normally wore. It wasn't a smile that reeked of sadistic motives or lecherous thoughts. His teeth were surprisingly straight, and though ever-so-slightly stained from many years of smoking, it was almost a nice sight. It was one of the smiles that the man had probably used on countless women, and the girl found herself being drawn into it.

Until she came to herself once more and remembered who he was and what he had done do her.

Disgusted, and cheeks aflame, she twisted her face into a glare. Her hands closed into fists at her sides and her toes curled as she gave him a look that she believed was menacing.

It didn't have the desired effect. He threw his back and laughed.

Surely the man was bipolar. In the span of three minutes, he had attacked her, kissed her, and now he was laughing at her. Caroline wasn't quite sure what to make of him, but if someone were to ask her, she wasn't planning on sticking around long enough to figure him out.

She'd leave that part to some other woman who was demented enough to stand him and his mood swings.

She had too many problems of her own to try and work through someone else's. Not that she wanted to in the first place.

This man made a Rottweiler look like the Easter Bunny.

The man in question opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of someone cursing loudly, and a few shouts of pain coming from outside, caught his attention. A frown furrowed his brow as he strained to hear what was being said. After a few moments, he growled, having once returned to his sour mood. His eyes met Caroline's.

"We'll finish this later," he said, as if it closed the subject.

"Like hell we will!" she immediately snapped, arms crossing over her chest. But he ignored her and quickly strode towards the door, throwing it open so hard that one of the hinges came undone.

Several hours later, Caroline would be beating her head against the door in frustration. She would realize, that had she been an intelligent human being, she would have taken the chance to escape whilst everyone else was distracted outside. But instead, she had foolishly let her curiosity take over, and had followed him outside.

She managed to stumble through the door, legs still refusing to cooperate after Scabior had kissed her. She looked around for a second before her eyes spotted the group of men about fifteen feet down the alley. Quietly, she walked towards them, wondering what they were doing huddled in a circle. Her eyes widened when she saw one of the men throw a tall figure into the middle.

The figure in question had a smirk on his face and shockingly bright red hair.

She hid in the doorway of one of the destroyed shops that lined the street, and watched the scene unfold.

And boy, what a scene it was.

"Well, well, well," she heard Scabior draw out slowly as he sauntered down the street, coming to a stop in front of the man. "I don't have to ask which family you belong to, do I, boy?"

"Blood traitor," one of Scabior's men spat at his feet, a scowl on his face.

"Watch it!" the red-headed man shouted, his eyebrow raised. "No need to soil my shoes, mate. They didn't do nothing to you."

There were a few grumbles around the circle.

Caroline could practically _feel_ Scabior rolling his eyes.

"What's a Weasley doing down here? I thought you'd be too terrified to leave your home," Scabior said as he twirled his wand around his fingers, an obvious and annoying habit of his. And though Caroline couldn't see it, she imagined a condescending smirk on his face.

"Terrified of what?" the man questioned innocently. He looked to be able twenty years old, and though he was youthful in appearance, the look in his eyes made him seem much older. "A bunch of dogs employed by the ministry that barely managed to finish all seven years at Hogwarts? Everyone knows that a Snatcher's most dangerous charm is _expelliarmus_."

He laughed at his own joke.

"Watch your tongue, Weasley," Scabior hissed, several of the men growling around him. Though Caroline hadn't understood the meaning behind the red-head's statement, it was clear that it was an insult. "You wouldn't want it cut out, now would you?"

"Weasley? Never heard of him."

"Oh _really_, now?" Scabior questioned sarcastically. "Well, in that case, maybe you'd care to help us find a Mr. _Ronald Weasley._ Word around here is that he's been hanging around London recently."

Caroline watched in fascination as the other man visibly paled, his body stiffening significantly. But still, he held his head high, his eyes never moving from Scabior's face. He remained silent.

"_Ah_," Scabior mumbled. "Seems I struck a nerve. Tell me, where is your brother, boy?"

"How do you know that _I'm_ not Ron Weasley?" the younger man questioned, nearly taunting the older man, as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Please," Scabior scoffed. "He and Potter have been in hiding for months now. Makes no sense for him to come out now." The dark-haired man then pointed at the other's chest, which was covered in a green, wool-like fabric. " Besides, you're wearing one of your mother's ugly hand-made sweaters. And last I checked, 'Ron' does not begin with a '_G'_."

The man flinched once more, his face flushing. However, after a moment had passed, he regained a look of eerie calmness that was almost haughty. He even went so far as to crack a smirk. Caroline was in awe of the man who was so easily able to mask his fear.

"Well, you caught me," the red-head confessed, throwing his hands up into the air. And while it was obvious in his eyes that he was fearful, humor seemed to lace his tone. "Maybe Snatchers _do_ have some intelligence after all. Minimal, sure, but still there."

"Watch it, boy," Fenrir growled. Caroline had momentarily forgotten he was there.

Which was strange, because his hulking figure wasn't one that usually could be missed.

"Which Weasley are you?" Scabior asked, anger making an appearance in his tone. Caroline wanted to applaud the other man for managing to aggravate her captor so much.

"Why does it matter?"

"It matters because I need to know which name to scratch off my list after I kill you," Scabior responded simply, as if killing people was as normal as breathing. Caroline's heart stopped.

"Really, now?" the other man grinned impishly. "What are you going to do, stab me with your wand? Using a curse on me seems to be a little out of your league." Scabior's face reddened in anger, and before she could blink, he raised his wand and shouted out a word she didn't understand, and immediately the red head fell to the ground, screaming in pain.

Caroline could only watch in horror as his knees gave out on him. He twisted on the ground, as if searching for a position that would give him peace. His eyes were shut tight and one of his hands was buried in his hair. Time flew by slowly as the man's face warped into an expression of agony, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

Caroline had no idea what was happening to him, but she knew Scabior was the one causing it.

His cries hit her like a tidal wave, and before she knew it, primal screams of both rage and terror were leaving her own lips as she threw herself at Scabior.

Her fists found purchase anywhere they could, and though she couldn't remember quite clearly later, she _thought _she might have bitten him at one point…

At once, his concentration was broken. Though she was too small to cause him to move much, the shock of her throwing her body at him forced him to take a step back as his wand fell out of his hand. Without much effort, Scabior caught her wrists in his hands before he roughly pushed her to the ground.

Caroline landed with a grunt, forcing the air in her lungs to abruptly to leave her body. Her wrist protested as the joint was forced to catch her fall, but it was her backside that took the majority of the impact.

Behind her, she could hear the other man panting heavily, his body obviously struggling to regain control over itself.

She had saved him.

From what exactly, she didn't quite know. But the mere thought that she had managed to help him boosted her confidence and allowed her to look defiantly up into Scabior's eyes.

He was still in shock.

At least he _was_, for that split second that they looked at each other. But his eyes quickly hardened and his breathing deepened.

"_What_," he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, "_do you think you're doing?"_

Caroline didn't answer.

"I asked you a question!"

Still, she didn't answer.

A few snickers erupted around her, no doubt mocking her lack of courage.

Enraged, Scabior reached down and grabbed her by her sweatshirt, effectively jerking her up. Her face was merely a few inches away from his, a position that she was becoming quite used to. He shook her angrily.

"_What are you doing out here?" _he roared.

"I followed you out," she said simply. Caroline herself was surprised with how calm she sounded when she answered. She counted it as a personal victory.

"_What makes you think you had permission to?"_

"You never said I couldn't."

Again, she could hear some muffled laughter, as if the others were happy to see their leader picking on someone other than themselves.

She was disgusted by them.

Scabior pushed her away from him once more, his face stormy. His lips were pulled back in a feral growl, his eyes dark and menacing as he glared at her. His fists curled and uncurled at his sides, but surprisingly enough, he didn't hit her.

But Caroline knew that just because he hadn't _yet,_ didn't mean he _wouldn't._

In fact, she quite expected it. And that thought alone was quite sobering.

"Told ya she be trouble," a voice whispered from her left. Scabior's head whipped to the side instantly.

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Hatchet," he snarled viciously. "Unless you want to end up dead yerself, I'd fucking shut the bloody hell up!" Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline saw the man in question shrink back, his eyes wide. Scabior turned to look back at her. He kept his eyes locked on hers, even as he bent down to retrieve his fallen wand.

Caroline gulped. Loudly.

"Why is it," he began, his voice sinister, "that you always seem to do the thing I least expect you to, hmm? You'd think, after everything I've done to you, that you'd learn your lesson and stop meddling in things that _ain't to be meddled in."_

Caroline shook her head, once again at a loss for words. He continued on, making it clear that he had never really intended for her to reply in the first place.

"Though you keep me entertained to no end, your stupidity and insolence quickly overcomes any sort of…_fondness_ I may have for you."

"Fondness?" Caroline couldn't help but snort. Though her confidence was quickly fading, she didn't let him see it. "If your attitude towards me is because you're _fond_ of me, than I don't want to see what you do to people when you _hate_ them."

"Any other person in your position would have long ago learned their place, or have met their death," Scabior replied instantly, his dark expression threatening. His sneer betrayed his current calmness, but Caroline ignored it.

"What makes _me_ so special?" she asked scathingly, voicing a question she had long been wanting an answer to. "Why can't you treat me like anyone else and kill me? It would be better than being stuck here with _you._" For once, it was Scabior who held no reply.

Their eyes, dark brown and ice blue, clashed as they stared at each other. Scabior's chest was moving rapidly as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to reign in his anger, and Caroline's hands clenched at her sides, as if trying to keep her strength from leaving her body . Neither looked away from the other as the battle of wills continued on, until a cough sounded from behind the girl.

Caroline's head whipped around and she noticed that the red head had stood up and was shakily standing on his feet. Though his face was still white and shiny with sweat, his grin was back as he stared at her curiously. He gave her a dramatic bow.

"The name's George Weasley," he said to her, though Caroline knew he was also mocking the Snatchers with this information. After all, he had denied them an answer earlier, but was now giving it up freely. "And though I'd _very_ much love to stay and chat with you, I think I may have overstayed my welcome with your friends." His eyes looked over her head, no doubt meeting Scabior's eyes.

Caroline was shocked into oblivion when Scabior didn't respond.

"Call me when you have some more men on your side, and then maybe we can have an even fight."

And with that, a loud _crack_ echoed in the air and Caroline was left staring ahead of her, dumbfounded, with nothing in her line of sight.

He had disappeared.

And Caroline knew it was her fault.

And though his escape was what she had originally wanted, she _also_ knew that Scabior was going to be angry.

At _her_.

But what else was new?

* * *

A/N There you go. There might be a _few_ grammatical errors, but that's because I wanted to get this out to all of you as soon as possible. But here you go, my lovelies! I hope you all enjoy it!

Please review and let me know what you think!

This chapter's title is "Whisper" by Evanescence.

-courtneylove15


	13. Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 13: Sweet Dreams Are Made of This**

* * *

Caroline didn't even want to _think_ about the new bruises she had acquired at Scabior's hand. Nor did she want to think about the rather large cut that she could see through her torn jeans, or the welt on her cheek that was rapidly swelling. She didn't want to think about her swollen hand that was aching tremendously, caused by Fenrir's large foot that had come crashing down on it after Scabior had pushed her to the ground…again.

Her head was aching as the memories rushed through her.

But that might have also been because of the large bump she had received on the back of her head when Scabior had pushed her up against the stone wall in the alley.

Thinking was painful.

And _feeling_ was painful. Obviously.

For the thousandth time in the past week, Caroline found herself wondering why it was _her_ that had been caught up in this mess.

What had she done to deserve this?

Surely that one time in second grade, when she had pulled out the chair from beneath the teacher, wasn't bad enough for her to warrant this situation. It couldn't have been because of the fact that she had stolen her best friend's _Spice Girls_ eraser when she was nine simply because she was jealous.

After all, she _had_ given it back.

It couldn't be because of the fact that she had snuck into 'R' rated movies before she was seventeen, or because she had forgotten to turn in two essays in her English class her senior year of high school and had therefore received a 'D', her only grade that had even been below a 'B.'

God knows her parents had dealt out a severe enough punishment for _that_.

Caroline tried, she really, honest-to-God _tried_, to think of what she could have done. She had never smoked even so much as a cigarette, she could count on one hand just exactly how many times she had been drunk, and she was a fucking virgin _for God's sake!_

Caroline supposed that the only explanation was one she had been hearing and telling herself for several years now: _sometimes bad things happen to good people._

That one sentence, she knew, was as cliché was as a Disney-princess movie. But there was nothing else she could think of.

Nothing.

And it fucking _sucked._

Because if she didn't know what she had done to deserve it, then she would be hard pressed to figure out how to fix it.

She'd give anything to go wake up the next morning in her bedroom, with her parents screaming at each other down the hall. She'd _do _anything to go back to a time where the only thing that ached was her heart as she walked by her brother's empty bedroom.

Anything was better than…_this._

Shortly after the man, George, had disappeared, Scabior had turned his malice on her. And after damn near beating her to death,(well, that was an exaggeration, for she was very clearly alive and functioning properly) they were back on the road again. At the moment, they were walking through yet another forest, and Caroline was finding it harder and harder to keep up with the men. She ignored their sneers and dirty remarks as she walked with her head high, brushing the stray tears that slipped down her cheeks every few minutes.

_Sometimes bad things happen to good people._

For the most part, the men ignored her, and she ignored them. She focused on the sound of her own breathing, the steady throb in her hand, her heartbeat that she could hear thudding in her ears. She focused on anything that would allow her respite from thinking of Scabior.

But her breathing was harsh and uneven because of the way Scabior had grabbed her around the neck just hours ago.

Her hand was throbbing because of the order he gave Fenrir to crush it.

And her heartbeat was elevated because of the fear his mere presence caused.

Everything she thought about led back to Scabior.

Everything she felt, both physically and emotionally, led back to Scabior.

It was all about _him_.

And she knew he enjoyed it being that way.

_Damn him_.

Without warning, Caroline's foot caught on a root, causing her to go flying to the ground and lose her train of thought. Stunned, she did nothing but lie there. No cry had escaped her lips as she had fallen, but as the wet ground began to seep into her skin, her body started to tremble. Shivering, and without caring about the men ahead of her, she rolled on to her side and curled into herself. Ignoring the fact that someone would soon realize that she was missing, she closed her eyes tightly. No tears slid down her cheeks, but her body heaved as if she was crying.

Why couldn't she just stay here?

The ground was wet and muddy, the view hardly beautiful, and the air so cold that she could see her breath, but it was all better than following Scabior and his men.

Gasping loudly for breath, she never heard footsteps approaching until rough hands were yanking her to her feet.

"_What_ do you think you're _doing_?"

Scabior.

Of fucking course.

_Sometimes bad things happen to good people._

"I fell." The words were as dull as she felt.

"And you couldn't get back up?" he demanded, irritated that she wasn't looking him in the eye, Instead, Caroline merely stared at her feet, nearly lifeless.

As if she had lost all the fight left in her.

She knew that wasn't the case, but sometimes it was nice not to feel anything, if only for a few seconds. And with her current lack of energy, it was rather easy to pretend.

"No."

"Why the _bloody hell not?"_

"Maybe because I'm so bruised and battered that every move I make is painful and not worth it," she replied. The comment was dry, and lacked emotion. Not even sarcasm was present. She heard the man growl under his breath, and she knew it wasn't because of her response, but rather the lack of the emotion. Caroline knew he enjoyed the fight in her, and secretly, it made her happy to know that she was annoying him. She hissed suddenly when he jerked her head up by her chin to look him in the eyes.

His cold eyes narrowed as they took her in, and Caroline wanted to roll her eyes. But she didn't have the energy. Without warning, he pulled his wand out of his sleeve and aimed it at her. Caroline flinched, but relaxed when her pain slowly faded into a dull throb, rather than an intense one.

Though she was grateful for the respite, she was close to asking him why he even bothered helping her when she knew, and _he_ knew, that he was going to end up hurting her again, sooner or later.

But again…that lack of energy came into play.

"Clearly, I can't trust the men to keep an eye on you," he said quietly, though more to himself than her. "You'll just have to walk up front with me. Wouldn't want to lose you, beautiful, now would we?" He sent her a look that was somewhat akin to hunger, a look that was meant to remind her of the kiss earlier, but again, she didn't respond. Caroline just stared at him blankly. Sighing to himself angrily, he grabbed her hand tightly, and all but dragged her to the front of the group. Caroline didn't say a word.

And when she looked down after three more hours of walking, she was shocked to see that his hand still hadn't left hers.

* * *

The minutes turned into hours, the hours into days, and before Caroline knew it, another week had already passed by. Which was rather ironic, because at times, even seconds seemed to just crawl by. She followed the men through the woods, into random inns where the food was at least _halfway _decent, then back into the woods, where the constant cold air left her feeling frozen down to the bone. She listened to them interrogate the people they had managed to capture, and desperately tried to not think about what happened to them once they had ceased to be useful. She kept to herself, never talking unless "yes" or "no" was the answer to whatever question was being asked of her. She never even voiced a complaint when the men shoved her or threw random insults at her, just to try and piss her off.

It never worked.

Something that annoyed Scabior greatly.

For the first few days, it seemed he did anything to gain and keep her attention, anything to provoke an angry or sarcastic response. He made fun of her accent (a rather lame attempt, she thought), pulled her hair, stomped on her feet on purpose, wouldn't allow her to go to the bathroom when she needed, and denied her food on some occasions.

Everything seemed so childish, so unlike him, that it was almost amusing watching a man of his height and masculinity resort to such tactics. It was rather pathetic, actually.

Caroline would have laughed…had she given a shit.

The remaining four days consisted of him completely leaving her alone. Yes, he still insisted on her walking up front with him now, but besides that, he ignored her. He had given up, something that left Caroline extremely grateful.

His being annoyed at her was almost _worse_ than his being angry at her.

* * *

It was night of her eleventh day of capture that completely changed everything. And days, weeks, and even _years_ later, Caroline still wouldn't know if it was for the better...or for the worse.

The day had started out normal enough. Her waking up to the sound of men arguing, eating _disgusting_ leftovers from the night before, and then walking….walking…and more walking. Again, Scabior, nor his men for that matter, made no move to speak to her, or even acknowledge her. So once their "journey" for the day was over, Caroline immediately retired to the tent she had been residing in, and got herself ready for bed. She pulled the covers over her curled up form, desperate to warm up her permanently frozen hands. She did her best to block out the noise of the men outside, and somehow managed to fall into a fretful sleep.

It felt like she had just closed her eyes when the sound of screaming woke her. Caroline didn't move.

She knew what was happening. The men had probably caught another person to torture.

However, the sound of a male voice cursing loudly right next to her, and the feeling of the bed dipping and releasing beneath someone else's weight, caused her to bolt up in alarm. She turned around just in time to see Scabior throwing on his shoes and rushing out of the tent.

Dread rushed through her. Sure enough, when her hand reached the other side of the bed that she had not been occupying, she was met with warmth.

Scabior had been lying _right next to her._

Horrified, Caroline leapt out of the bed, desperate to get away from the offending space. Her eyes focused on the large indention on the bed, left from the form that had been lying on it. The noises coming from outside ceased to exist as thoughts rushed through her head.

_Had he touched her._

_How long had he been doing this?_

However, a particularly loud "BANG" brought her out of her immobilized state, and Caroline, out of the corner of her eyes, saw a green colored streak of light go flying past the tent. A second later, a male's voice grunted.

Ignoring Scabior's rule of never leaving the tent without his permission, she threw her shoes on, and instantly ran outside. And immediately wished she hadn't.

It seemed that Scabior's camp was under attack. Around fifteen men littered the campsite, and because of the darkness, she couldn't tell who was who, or what was what. Taking it all in, Caroline heard screams of words she didn't understand (and didn't even _try_ to), quickly followed by more bright streaks of lights varying in color, and then the sounds of men crying in pain. Scared, hear racing in her chest, she stood there, unsure of what to do. She contemplated running back into the tent, but a streak of light flew past her (nearly searing her ear) and abruptly caused her only safe haven to burst into flames.

Crying out as the explosion nearly shoved her off her feet, Caroline felt the heat radiating from the fire. For the first time in days, she felt warm, but she didn't allow herself to enjoy it. Instead, she took off running without a second thought, or a second look behind her.

And stopped dead when a body landed right in her path. Screaming, Caroline tripped over it, and flew to the ground. Shaken to the core, Caroline got to her knees and turned to start running again, when the face of the man startled her.

It was just a _boy_. One who looked hardly even older than_ her_.

Gasping and trying to catch her breath, Caroline tried to look away from his eyes that were empty and rested on her, but she found that she couldn't. Instead, she reached out her arm, and grabbed the thing that was in his hand.

His wand.

A shock went through her, one that nearly caused her to drop the wand. It left her hand burning slightly, but she found that her hand refused to let it go. It almost seemed _glued _to her. Gulping, Caroline's eyes widened as the shock went through her again, but ignored it as she shakily got to her feet.

Staring down at the wand in her hand, Caroline noticed that it felt like nothing more than a stick. Sure, it was polished and smooth, but even as a mix of wonder and bewilderment filled her, she felt ever-so-slightly ridiculous holding a mere _stick_.

But she knew that things weren't always as they seemed.

"Don't just stand there looking at it! Use it!" someone cried, she didn't know who, and it didn't even occur to her that they might have been talking to her. She merely continued gazing down at the wand, ignoring the sounds of the battle raging on around her. It was like all her sense had left her, and she couldn't concentrate on anything else.

It wasn't until someone pushed her behind them, and a loud "BOOM" echoed through her ears, that she was finally snapped out of her trance. She managed to remain standing, but once again, her heart was pounding in her throat.

The man in front of her turned around to face her, and she was both surprised, and not surprised, to find that it was Scabior.

"Why aren't you protecting yourself?" he roared in her face. Caroline took a moment to take a look at him: a large gash was prominent on his forehead, causing a trail of blood to run down his face, and a bruise was rapidly swelling on his left check. His knuckled were bloody, his hair was messed up even more than usual, and his eyes….his eyes were wild.

With both anger…and worry.

"I don't know how to," was all she said, so quietly that she almost didn't even herself.

"You don't know-" but he was cut off when a streak of light went racing towards them. Immediately, the man forced her to the ground, using his larger frame to cover hers. Caroline gripped his arm until her knuckled turned white around it. Scabior looked over his shoulder before glaring down at her again.

"What do you mean that you don't know how to?" but as soon as the words left his lips, he froze. His eyes widened, the ice color darkening into a deeper blue. His mouth dropped slightly, and his hand tightened on her hip.

It was then that Caroline realized what was going through his head.

And by his shocked expression, she could tell that he finally believed what she had been telling him all along.

He backed away slowly, eyes never leaving hers, as a grim expression slowly took over his battle-weary face.

And Caroline said the only words that came to her mind.

"I told you so."

* * *

FINALLY! This chapter has been ripping me to shreds. Nothing was coming to me. And then, late last night, as I was trying to fall asleep, the battle scene started to play through me head. As soon as I got home from work, I pounded it out. I hope you all enjoy it (lord knows you all deserve it) and I apologize for the long wait. Until next time, my pretties!

The song for this chapter is "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This). I took it from the movie "Sucker Punch" and while I know she's not the original singer, I love the Emily Browning version. The song, coupled with her voice, is kind of haunting, and paints a picture in my head of a girl being used and abused and finally coming to terms with something, or beginning to figure something out, even if she doesn't realize it yet. I urge you all to check it out and tell me what you think!

-courtneylove


	14. Evil Angel

**Breaking Point**

**Chapter 14: Evil Angel**

* * *

Despite the battle raging on around them, Caroline couldn't hear anything. Silence wrapped around her like a thick blanket as she looked at Scabior, her eyes only focused on him. He was frowning, his eyebrows narrowed, his face illuminated by small flashes of light as curses went flying at the others. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing to her face, and his fingers wrapped around her hip. It was only them right now as the truth settled in, and she knew it was the same for him.

He couldn't seem to see anything other than her, either.

"You're not…a witch." It was a statement, not a question. She could see the confusion in his eyes even as he said the words and as he tried to decipher everything going on around them, everything that had happened up to this point. It was obvious that he wasn't coming up with much. Hell, even she was confused, and she had known she wasn't a witch for the entire time.

"No," she whispered in confirmation. The girl looked down for a second, her dark lashes fanning out on her cheeks, before looking at him once more. "Do you…believe me?" His eyes, those ice blue eyes, sharpened as he took her in. Everything from her dirty face, to her torn jeans, her wide dark eyes, and messy brown hair. None of it escaped his gaze. Her hand clenched on his arm, as if the contact would help him make up his mind.

"Yes," Scabior said just as quietly, but firmly.

Something had changed between them.

He knew it.

And she knew it.

His eyes never leaving hers, Scabior stood up slowly until she had to crane her neck up to see him. With a blank face, he extended his arm down, palm up. Caroline reached for it without hesitating, and found that though his hand was filthy, it was exceedingly warm. His fingers wrapped around hers and he lifted her easily to her feet. They stood chest to chest for all of thirty seconds before he pushed himself away from her.

He looked slightly uneasy, as if he wasn't sure where to go from there.

It was certainly a first for him.

The sound of something catching fire broke their trance, and his face immediately hardened.

"I want you to find somewhere to hide. You are not to come out until I come for you, do you understand me?" The last sentence was technically a question, but it came out more like a demand. Apparently the Scabior she had come to know was back. Caroline nodded, and without another word, went in search of a hiding place.

She ran for a few minutes, almost blind in the darkness, before finding a rather large log to hide behind. Hastily lowering herself to her knees, she crawled underneath the bush to securely place herself behind the large piece of wood. Panting, the girl tried not to focus on the shouts and blasts that came from the campsite, but she found she could not. She told herself not to look, but her morbid curiosity quickly took over. Instead, Caroline poked her head up enough that she could ever-so-slightly see the small battle that raged on before her, and she considered it a small blessing that her dark hair would be hard to spot in the darkness of the forest. She sat like that, waiting, for what seemed like an hour as the men continued fighting. And suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

_Why _was she waiting?

Any smart person would have taken the chance to run away whilst the Snatchers were otherwise occupied. Any smart person would be miles away by now, searching for someone to help them. Any smart person would have taken their chances in the woods at night to find some sort of safe haven. Any smart person would have said "Ciao!" before sprinting off, not even taking a moment to consider what might become of their captors.

But as Scabior had loved to remind her, Caroline wasn't that smart. Or rather, she didn't always use logic to rule her actions. Sometimes, she based her decisions off of her heart.

And right now, a piece of her heart, albeit a very _small_ piece, was telling her to stay.

And for some reason, she listened. Though she would never know why…

She knew, logically, that she should have left. Caroline knew, without a single doubt, that she should have taken her chances in the forest. Should have run for her life. But her legs refused to follow her brain's commands, and instead lay still beneath her bottom as she kneeled behind the log. It was if they had switched their allegiance to her heart, and would not listen to the rationality of her mind.

Again, she didn't know what possessed her to decide to remain with Scabior and his men. Perhaps it was because of the way he had looked at her when he healed the bruises on her throat, or how he had gazed down at her when he finally realized she wasn't, indeed, a witch. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he had sworn to come back for her, even though she knew of his hatred for 'muggles.'

Either way, she stayed. And either way, it was completely demented.

And she had a feeling that she might regret it later.

But she didn't focus on that.

Though it was the middle of the night, and her body was exhausted, Caroline was wide awake. Her eyes blinked only when they had to, as if they were reluctant to miss even a split second. Her hands had long since stopped trembling, and instead firmly grasped the log to keep her balance. Her breathing had calmed, and Caroline found that while she was frightened, her body was relaxed, and seemed to be adapting to the danger around her.

It wasn't until the first rays of light began creeping upon the forest that the skirmish before her finally ended. It was still dark out, but ever so slowly, tinier details that were missed in the dark could be seen. Like the burn mark on the trees, where the attacker's victim had been standing before they quickly moved away. Or the melted snow that had lost its coldness as the fire's warmth attacked it.

All was quiet. Eerily quiet.

Caroline's body protested as she stood up slowly, muscles stiff after sitting in such an awkward position for so long. Her joints popped, and her hands ached as they loosened their hold on the log. Her right leg tingled harshly as it was jostled from its sleep. Her blood-shot eyes took in everything they could, and after a moment's hesitation, she carefully stepped over the log in front of her, completely forgetting Scabior's word as she moved towards the camp site.

Or what was left of it, anyways.

Leaves and snow crunched beneath her feet as she made her way to the decimated camp site, and the closer she got, and more worried she got. At the moment, no one was there. Not a single soul was in sight. Hands clenching at her side, her eyes darted from left to right, trying to figure out where everyone could have gone. Finally, she stopped. Sighing, she Caroline raised her hand to her face, wiping at her eyes, fatigue finally catching up with her. She closed her lids for a second, before reopening them.

She immediately wished she hadn't.

The second her eyes opened, they found purchase on another body, lying just five feet away from her. And she was horrified to realize that the face was familiar.

Lying on his back, eyes open even in death, blood oozing from several slashes across his body…was Leo.

Stumbling back, Caroline felt a scream making its way up her throat. But before she could mutter a sound, a hand covered her mouth and her body was jerked back with such a force that she nearly lost her balance. Her breath caught in her throat.

"I thought I told you to stay put!" a voice whispered harshly in her ears. But Caroline didn't respond. She couldn't. Instead, her shaky hands reached up to grasp the hand that was covering her mouth and she squeezed her eyes tightly, desperate to get the image before her out of her head. She shook her head and bit her tongue, desperate to keep any cries from escaping her. Somewhat shocked by her response, or rather lack thereof, Scabior roughly turned her around in his arms.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked just as harshly. Again, she didn't answer, her eyes still snapped shut together tightly. "What's wrong with you?" he repeated, his hands grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Caroline reluctantly opened her eyes, and Scabior was startled to see the beginnings of tears forming. Slowly, ever so slowly, Caroline's head turned to the side, and Scabior, following her movement, looked over her shoulder.

His eyes focused on Leo. He cursed.

But he didn't push her away. And for that, Caroline was reluctantly grateful.

Instead, he continued to hold her to him, even if the touch itself wasn't comforting. But Caroline didn't care. Just having someone there, even a madman, was enough. She tried to focus on the man's nails digging into her upper arms, or the unsteadiness of her breathing, rather than the picture of Leo's lifeless eyes staring up at her. She shuddered, but it had nothing to do with the cold, and released a low, pitiful keening sound.

Immediately, Caroline was fully engulfed in Scabior's arms as he pulled her tightly to his chest. Too shocked to let out of any sort of noise, Caroline stood there stiffly, afraid to move. But when Scabior's hand landed lightly on the back of her head, and pushed it gently under his chin, her resolve broke, and for what seemed like the hundredth time she had been captured, she burst into tears again. No comforting words were spoken, in fact, no words were spoken at all, but it was the first time anyone had ever held her while she cried since her brother died. And even though it was Scabior, a man she was determined to hate, she found herself not caring.

Again, another turning point had been reached. And there was certainly no turning back now.

It was amazing how a man who had done nothing but hurt and torment her since he had found her in the forest that fateful night was the only thing currently keeping her from pure insanity. And that was ironic, seeing as how most of the time, it was he who nearly drove her there.

When the last tear had been shed, and rationality returned to her, Caroline pushed herself away from Scabior. Careful to avoid looking at Leo, she glanced around, trying to assess the additional damage.

And also trying to avoid Scabior's eyes.

"You should go back to the camp," he said gruffly, and without emotion, as if trying hide the _softer_ side he had just displayed. The cold Scabior was back."They…uh…should be finished cleaning everything up by now." Caroline merely nodded her head and set off. She didn't ask what Scabior intended to do with Leo's body. She didn't want to know.

Her stomach tossed and turned at every visual that entered her mind.

So, without a word, she made her way back to the camp, making sure to avoid looking at the ground, fearing what else, or _who_ else, could be lying there. She found a log near where her tent had previously been, and took a seat quietly. Leaning forward, and struggling not to cry again as she took in the carnage around her, she put her head in her shaking hands.

What a night. What a horrible, disastrous night.

Caroline could hear the men as they spoke loudly around her, having oddly reappeared out of nowhere. They chatted idly, as if the deaths created by their own hands meant nothing to them. But then, she shook her head, once again realizing that these men did not hold _anything_ sacred. In fact, they almost seem to relish in the knowledge that the families of those who attacked them would never see their loved ones again. The harshness of the reality made Caroline feel sick to her stomach. It was one thing to hear about the atrocities in the world, it was a completely different thing to witness it.

Because Caroline knew, without a doubt, that these men were _monsters._ They seem to lack all humanity and any sense of goodness, and instead, displayed hatred and violence for no reason. And though Caroline was used to the violence and obvious hatred coming from her parents, in no way, shape, or form, did it relate to what she had witnessed the past few days.

It made her feel like she had lived a very sheltered life.

"Girly, why aren't you helping us clean up?" Fenrir's voice broke the silence she had tried to create around herself. "Not very polite of you." Caroline ignored him. Suddenly, she felt a hand push her off her log. Startled, Caroline stumbled to her feet and glared up at the man in front of her.

"Don't touch me again," she snapped. Fenrir merely grinned, a sinister look that fit his face _too_ well, and shrugged his shoulders. In an uncharacteristic move, he walked away, without pushing for more of a fight. Relieved, and somewhat suspicious, Caroline watched him leave, her shoulders sagging with the exhaustion that suddenly hit her like a freight train. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she fell back on to the log heavily, and once again placed her head in her hands. The tears had long since ceased, but her dinner was still churning angrily in her stomach.

She tried to ignore it, she honestly did, but when the bile began rising in her throat, she refused to swallow it. Instead, she leaned over, and lost the contents of her stomach to the bush behind her. When she was done, she raised a shaking hand to wipe her mouth, and cringed at the site on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

Disgusting.

But at this point, everything was disgusting to her.

She dimly heard Scabior's voice adding to the mixture of the other men's, ordering them around like it was his God-given right. But again, Caroline ignored the commotion around her, deciding that she'd rather not see what was happening to the bodies that littered the forest ground.

"Please! Please, don't hurt me!" the high-pitched cry of man startled Caroline, and she found herself looking around the besieged campsite, determined to find the cause. Her dark eyes landed on an older man kneeling on the ground in front of Scabior, tears pouring down his face.

One of the _attackers _had survived after all, and Scabior seemed oddly pleased at the sight before him.

"Please," the man cried again, bringing his hands up in front of him, and clasping them together as if he meant to pray. "Please, I have children," he whimpered.

"And maybe you'll get to see them again, if you answer my questions," she heard Scabior reply lightly, as if having a man begging for his life at his feet was nothing out of the ordinary. The man closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, a look of despair crossing his features.

"I can't," he hiccupped. "I can't tell you anything." Scabior gave a mock sigh.

"Well," he drawled, "I suppose you are of no use to me then." Scabior drew his hand up, wand pointed at the man's face. However, before he went through with his imposed threat, he met Caroline's horrified eyes. She hadn't muttered so much as a peep, but somehow, he had known she was watching him.

The features on his face softened for a fracture of a second, before they hardened once more, and a sadistic glint lit in his eyes. Ripping his gaze away from her, he looked back down at the man, raised his arm once more, and with an angry cry, a flash of green light erupted from his wand.

The man fell to the ground, the light gone from his eyes.

Caroline didn't have the energy to scream. Instead, she stood there, horror-struck eyes taking in the scene before, brain attempting to make sense of what had just happened.

Hadn't she seen enough death tonight?

Her mind replayed the coldness of Scabior's gaze right before he killed the man, and any sort of connection she had begun to feel for the man abruptly evaporated. Her hatred for him returned with abundance, and Caroline was too sickened to even look his way for another second longer.

Instead, she turned back to the bush behind her, and promptly threw up for the second time that night.

* * *

A/N: I am so sorry this took soooooo long, my lovelies. Nothing was coming to mind, so I kept putting it off. And before I knew it, months had already gone by. I hope this satisfied your need for another chapter, and I hope, as much you do, that I'll be able to put another one soon. Until then, enjoy!

This chapter is titled after the song "Evil Angel" by Breaking Benjamin. This song is kind of talking about the many sides of Scabior. Up until this point, Caroline has only really seen him as evil, but she's beginning to discover that there may be more to her captor than she originally thought.


End file.
